


What Happens in Vegas

by larrymylove



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Flirting, Las Vegas, Las Vegas Wedding, Living Together, Love/Hate, M/M, Marriage, One Night Stands, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-03-28 18:47:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 31,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3865738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larrymylove/pseuds/larrymylove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Based on the movie What Happens in Vegas. Harry Styles has just been dumped by his boyfriend of six years.  So his best friend Niall suggests a weekend in Vegas to help him get his mind off things.   Clandestine encounters with Louis Tomlinson plus way too much alcohol, and Harry finds himself waking up in Vegas with a ring on his finger and one half the winner of a $500,000 jackpot  prize.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Have you ever seen the movie What Happens in Vegas? If not, I suggest you do that as soon as possible because it is hilarious. Dumped and angry girl meets guy. Marries and has drunken one night stand with guy. Wins jackpot. They can only split the jackpot if they prove their marriage is actually genuine. All in all just a hilarious and cute movie. Now apply that concept to Larry and we've got this little thing I came up with a few nights ago! Enjoy!

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” Harry sighed, putting his head in his hands, “Vegas. Of all the places you could have suggested, you chose Vegas.”

“What’s wrong with Vegas?” Niall asked, “It’ll be fun. Besides, Brad just broke up with you. After six years!”

“Thanks for the reminder, Niall,” Harry shot him a glare.

“Sorry,” Niall smiled sheepishly, “But really, Vegas will be good for you. Look, you can just go and have fun this weekend and cut loose and just forget all about Brad and New York and your job and responsibilities. Just have fun, H.”

“Is it too late to get off the plane and go home?” Harry asked nervously.

“Considering any minute now we’ll be speeding down the runway about to take off? Yes.”

From a few rows back, someone was loudly proclaiming, “Do you even know who I am? This is bloody ridiculous!”

“I’m sorry sir,” a flight attendant was meagerly attempting to calm down the person, “Let me see your ticket. Ah yes, that was a mistake on our end. Unfortunately, there’s only one seat left in First Class. But come right this way and we’ll get you squared away.”

The flight attendant came up to Harry and Niall’s row. The man trailing behind her was looking exceptionally irritable. But Harry couldn’t help but lose himself in the crevices of those cheekbones.

“I can’t believe I had to sit in _business class,_ ” he shuddered as if the very thought sickened him and Harry rolled his eyes. He and Niall had never flown first class before, but Niall had suggested they go all out for this trip to Vegas. But if this was how typical first-class folks behaved, Harry wasn’t sure he wanted to fly first class again. “Don’t you know who I am?” The man protested again.

“Wow,” Harry said to Niall, louder than he’d intended to. The man snapped around and glared right at Harry. Harry swallowed hard as sea-glass eyes pierced into him.

“You have something to say?” The man asked, brows furrowing viciously.

“Uh...no,” Harry bit his bottom lip before gaining a little bit of courage. Niall had told him he could reinvent himself this weekend. Now sounded like a good place to start. Harry squared his shoulders at the sudden boldness, and said, “I just didn’t know people actually said that.”

“Said what?” The sea-glass eyes narrowed into angry little slits.

Harry pulled his lips under his teeth, trying to conceal a smile before saying, “‘Don’t you know who I am?’”

Niall was leaning his forehead against the wall of the plane, sniggeing and shaking as he tried to be as quiet as possible. He was failing miserably. The man’s jaw fell slack for a moment, as if he couldn’t believe Harry had just dared to say that to him,

“I am Louis Tomlinson - though I shouldn’t _have_ to tell you that - and I am a model. I’ve worked with some of the most brilliant photographers of our time. And I have never, in my life, flown anything less than first class.”

“We do apologize sir,” the flight attendant was actually wringing her hands, “We have a seat right here for you,” she gestured to the seat next to Harry across the aisle, “If this is suitable.”

Louis Tomlinson flicked his eyes to Harry before sighing dramatically and sinking into the seat, “I suppose this will just have to do then.”

“Let me know if we can get you anything at all, sir.”

The flight attendant disappeared to the back of the plane to sit as the plane took off. Harry watched as Louis clicked his seatbelt in place and smirked to himself. He took out his iPod, stuck the earbuds in his ears, and leaned his head back against the headrest. Harry shook his head, irritated.

“What a bloody wanker,” Niall hissed, “Seriously. How do people get off thinking they can act like that? No bloody manners is what it is.”

“At least he’s just listening to his music now,” Harry shrugged, “And maybe he’ll fall asleep for the flight or something. Who knows. All I do know is I don’t like having to be seated next to him.”

“He looked like he was going to bloody murder you when you said that,” Niall nudged Harry slightly with his elbow, jostling him, “Those eyes looked like he could kill you with a glance. Pretty though.”

“What?” Harry scowled.

“He has pretty eyes. Just saying,” Niall held up his hands, “Don’t you look at me like that. I’m just stating a fact, H. You do need a rebound.”

“No one _needs_ a rebound, Niall. You just have this odd obsession with me getting laid sometime soon.”

“Only because I think it’d be good for you,” the plane began to speed down the runway to take off. Niall gripped the armrest of his seat, “A good screw is the solution to most of the world’s problems, H. Including being brokenhearted.”

“I am not -” Harry sighed. It was no use trying to argue with Niall. They both knew he was right anyway, Harry was brokenhearted. But why shouldn’t he be? He and Brad had been together for six years. They’d had an apartment together - that he promptly kicked Harry out of. All because he’d cheated and told Harry being upset was an overreaction, completely dismissing his feelings about it at all. Brad was an ass. Stupid Brad. Harry looked down and saw his hands in fists.

“Come on,” Niall patted his arm, “This will be good for you. Two best blokes, raising trouble in the city of sin. It’ll be a blast. And you can forget about things for the whole weekend. And when we get back to New York, you’ll be completely refreshed and ready for this new chapter of your life. Trust me. It’ll be a blast.”

When the plane landed, Mr. Male Model Asshat held up the aisle as he insisted a flight attendant take his bag from the overhead for him. Harry shot Niall a look. This guy was bloody ridiculous. Who did he think he was anyway.

“Didn’t realize that in the course of the flight your arms happened to break,” Harry remarked. Niall snorted.

“Excuse me?” Mr. Male Model Asshat turned very slowly and those sea-glass eyes narrowed in on him once again.

“You didn’t have to get her to do that for you,” Harry said as the tiny flight attendant struggled to heave Louis’ massive carry-on from the overhead storage. Louis rolled his eyes painfully slowly, but didn’t comment. Once he had his bag, he strolled off the plane as if he owned the freaking thing. Harry and Niall exchanged another look and followed behind.

After collecting luggage from baggage, they headed out to catch a taxi to take them to their hotel - The Mirage. Even on the ride there, Harry wondered how he’d let Niall talk him into this trip. It felt ridiculous. He should be at home apartment hunting (currently his residence was on Niall’s sofa) and focusing on his career. Not off partying it up in Vegas. Harry didn’t even know how to party. But Niall seemed quite excited. He was practically bouncing in his seat. When they got to the hotel, they carried their bags up to the counter and collected their room keys. They would be staying in a Resort Queen room on the seventh floor. Niall was still bouncing as they boarded the elevator.

“A little excited, huh?” Harry asked, pushing the number seven.

“And you aren’t?” Niall asked, “Don’t answer that. You just need to warm up to it is all. Tonight, we are going to get completely pissed. And we’re going to have a blast. And you’re going to enjoy yourself. I’m going to personally see to that.”

“Thanks, Niall.”

When they got to their room, they could hear voices on the other side of the door. Odd, but maybe a maid had just left the TV on or something. Niall slid the key into the lock and pushed the door open. There, on the two queen beds, were four suitcases. A guy with a towel wrapped around his waist came out of the bathroom. His eyes turned to saucers.

“What the fuck!”

“What the fuck is right,” Niall stepped forward, “This is _our_ room. Room 706.”

“There has to be some sort of mix-up,” The guy shook his head in disbelief, “People cannot just be barging into other dude’s rooms like this. Not acceptable. Lemme see this,” he plucked the paperwork from Niall’s hand and skimmed over it, “Room 706, sure enough,” he scoffed, “Okay. We have to sort this out. This is the room I had reserved. For me, my boyfriend, and our best friend - don’t ask. He just decided randomly yesterday to come join us. I’ve had this room for the past two nights.”

“Okay,” Harry stepped up calmly, “We’ll just go down to the front desk and see about getting this taken care of. Surely they can fix this for us.”

“Right. Er...let me just put some clothes on. This is bloody ridiculous!”

Harry and Niall exchanged a look as the guy grabbed some clothes and disappeared into the bathroom. Just then, the door knob jangled and someone shouted - “The party has arrived!” Niall and Harry turned and stared in disbelief. Two very angry sea-glass eyes squinted into slits, “The fuck are you two doing here?”

“They double-booked the rooms,” Niall explained, “Your uh...friend...is getting dressed and then we’re going downstairs to sort this out.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Louis Tomlinson threw his head back and laughed a dry laugh, “How does this even happen? Okay, this is _not_ acceptable. I’m going to go down there and I’m going to fucking drag whoever’s fault this is to hell. This is completely unprofessional and unacceptable and just rude!”

“You’d know,” Harry mumbled to himself.

“God,” Louis winced, “You! You are unbelievable! First I get put on a flight with you, and my ticket gets messed up.  Then we end up at the same hotel, and you ended up booking my room! Zayn!” Louis hollered. Zayn appeared from the bathroom, fully dressed, “This is unacceptable. I’m going to have a few words with the people at the front desk.”

Zayn pinched the bridge of his nose, “Louis, we’ll deal with it. I’m sure there was just a computer glitch or something.”

“You could just stomp your foot and say ‘Do you even know who I am?’ Seemed to work for you on the plane,” Harry shrugged.

“What...what did you do?” Zayn shot a glance to Louis, “Lewis, did you pull that ‘male model’ bull again? For the love of...I can’t believe you!”

“So...you _aren’t_ a male model?” Niall asked, brow furrowed.

“No,” Zayn answered for him, “Well, not in the way he wants to be perceived. He does _catalogue_ work. But with the size of his ego, you’d think he had a contract under Muse Models or something,” Zayn rolled his eyes.

“Hey!” Louis’ glare fixated on Zayn now.

“Come on. I’ll text Liam and tell him there’s been a room mix up. He’s still at the pool. Hopefully we can get this all fixed and can enjoy our vacation.

* * *

 

“I’m sorry,” the man at the front desk typed on the computer for a moment, “It does appear there was a mix-up in the systems. Unfortunately, right now, all the rooms that are currently available would be a downgrade from where you are currently.”

“Listen,” Louis stepped forward to the counter, and Harry noted that he stood on his tiptoes to appear slightly taller, “This is _absolutely_ unacceptable. I had a _wonderful_ vacation planned this weekend with my best friend and his boyfriend…” The man raised a questioning eyebrow.

“He invited himself along,” Zayn felt the need to clarify.

“And I’m glad I did!” Louis retorted, “You two would die of boredom without me here. Anyway, my friend here has had this room for two nights already. Now then, unless you expect us to all share this one room - which I can tell you right now is not going to happen - I suggest you work your damndest to fix this for us.”

Harry stepped forward next, “We understand that there can be computer mixups. And that’s fine. We don’t mind having to switch rooms or something. But we cannot all stay in that one room. So could you please do something for us, sir? Just to make it so that we can get back to enjoying our vacation and your lovely accommodations?” That seemed to do the trick.

“Well, there is something I can do for you. On the twelfth floor, there is a suit. It contains two bedrooms, a kitchenette, and a living area in the center. There’s also a spacious bathroom with a jacuzzi tub. It’s one of our more popular suits for parties and events. I could offer that to you at the same price as your current room.”

“Wait…” Louis’ eyes narrowed, “...so we’d have to _share_ a room?”

“A suit,” the man corrected, “but you’d have your own bedrooms and it honestly has the best view in the hotel.”

“We’ll take it,” Harry nodded, “Thank you.”

“Um...no!” Louis protested, “Do you know who I am?”

“No?” The man squinted.

“It’s okay,” Harry smiled sweetly, “No one else does either. We’ll happily take the suit. Is that okay, Zayn?”

“Fine with me,” Zayn shrugged, “The living area has a couch, you say?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Oh thank God!” Zayn practically collapsed against the counter, “A bed for Louis!”

“I could just stay with you and Li…”

“No, no you can’t and no you won’t,” Zayn was quick to respond, “Yes,” he told the man, “We’ll take the suit.”

“Unbelievable,” Louis was muttering to himself, “You,” he pointed directly at Harry, “Are the worst luck ever! It’s like I can’t even escape you. You’re always just...there. Just...stay as far away from me as possible.”

They were given new room keys and Zayn texted Liam to inform him of the room change. As they piled back on the elevator, Zayn said, “Alright. This isn’t the most ideal situation but it’s going to have to work for now. I am sure we aren’t going to see much of each other anyway. We’ll all be doing different things at different times. So it shouldn’t be too big a deal.”

Once they’d gotten their bags from their old room, they made the elevator trip up to their suit. Zayn unlocked the door and gasped when he looked around. The view was incredible. Harry dropped his bag and immediately ran to the window to look out. Okay, maybe Niall hadn’t been wrong. Maybe there was a slight chance he would enjoy himself this weekend.

“Wow,” Zayn whispered. He and Niall joined Harry at the window as Louis hung back, sulking. “Lou, come check this out,” Zayn called him over.

Sighing, Louis stood in between Harry and Zayn and looked out at the strip.

“Jeez,” someone called out, “They got us _hooked up!_ ”

“Liam!” Zayn waved him over, “Come over and meet Harry and Niall. We’re all going to have to share this suit, but it’s not going to be so bad. As long as _Lewis_ promises to be on his best behavior and not be an utter asshat like he has been.”

“Lou,” Liam put a hand on his shoulder, “Are you being an asshat?”

“No,” Louis shook him off, “Just...can’t seem to get away from these two. They were on my flight as well.”

“Well, I am sure you three are going to be the best of friends in no time,” Liam clapped Harry on the back and Harry’s brow furrowed, wondering why he’d been the one to be singled out as Louis’ new best friend apparently.

Louis sulked off to the check out the kitchen. Zayn turned to Harry and Niall and apologized, “I am sorry about him,” he winced, “He’s not usually a jerk like this. Well, sometimes he is. But he’s been a bit sore since Liam and I got together. I think he’s worried we’ll stop hanging out with him or something stupid. He did invite himself along on this trip, but we didn’t stop him. We knew it’d be fun to have him along. Just...don’t let him let ruin your trip, okay? Nothing he says is personal.”

“Yeah,” Liam hugged Zayn from behind, “We used to be really close, the three of us. Still are. But Louis, he just gets worried about losing people he’s close to. So if he says anything rude, just brush it off. He doesn’t mean it. Trust me.”

“Thanks,” Niall nodded, “I’m sorry about the room mixup.”

“Not your fault at all, hon,” Zayn assured him, “Really. Besides, maybe we can make this into something fun after all. How about we all go out together tonight. Hit the town, paint it red - or whatever. It’ll be fun.”

“Zayn likes to make new friends,” Liam hugged him tighter.

“That sounds fun,” Harry nodded. He wasn’t a party person. He had no idea how to even go about cutting loose like that. But Zayn and Liam certainly were fun. And after having lost Brad and most of the friends that had come along with Brad, Harry was up for making a new group of friends.

“Awesome!” Zayn grinned excitedly.

* * *

“So what brings you two to Vegas?” Liam asked as they all finished the last touches of getting ready for the evening.

“Bad break up,” Harry winced shyly, “Niall wanted me to come to Vegas with him this weekend so I could work on just having some fun and not dwelling on it.”

“How long were you together?” Zayn asked, trying a black dress shoe, “If that’s not too personal?”

“Six years,” Harry buttoned the final buttons of his white button-down.

“Damn,” Liam’s eyes got wide, “Babe, we’re going to get this boy drunk off his ass tonight!”

“Well of course we are, love,” Zayn patted Harry’s knee, “Don’t worry. After tonight, you won’t even remember your ex’s name.”

“Or maybe even your own,” Niall nudged.

Louis cleared his voice and they turned to stare as if he’d made some sort of grand entrance. Which he kind of had. He was wearing very tight black dress pants and a crisp black dress shirt tucked in. He also had on black leather dress shoes and his hair was styled perfectly. He set his jaw slightly, and Harry felt his stomach flip at the sight of those cheekbones.

“Wow!” Zayn’s eyes widened, “You look amazing!”

“Yeah, well…” Louis trailed off, glancing down at his shoes.

“Are we ready to hit the town?” Liam asked, jumping up from the couch.

“Sure!” Niall pulled Harry up.

“So you’re really joining us then,” Louis walked over and stood right in front of Harry. And Harry wondered why he didn’t just keep his mouth shut on that plane. Now he was on Louis’ bad list, a list he knew by now no one wanted to be on.

“Yes,” Harry nodded plainly, “We are.”

“Well, just because Zayn and Liam are okay with it doesn’t mean I am.”

“Lou…” Liam put a hand on Louis’ shoulder, “Leave him be. We’re going to have a great time. We’re going to get completely trashed. Harry is going to forget his ex. Niall and I are going to see who can out drink whom and then I’m coming back here to have crazy hot sex with Zayn. And you are not to ruin any of that by being in a sour mood."

“Ex?” Louis raised a brow. Harry felt his insides cave slightly.

“Yes.”

“Who’d want to end it with you,” Louis’ voice was cool, smooth, “You’re such a _catch._ ” He winked.

Harry stuffed his hands into his pants’ pockets so no one would see that they were balled into fists. What was that offhanded remark anyway? And that wink? Harry decided that it was probably best not to try to read too deeply into anything Louis did. He was going to have a great time tonight and Louis was not going to ruin that!


	2. Situation Lost Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Katy Perry's "Waking Up in Vegas." Also, I know this isn't the best. I'm just having fun writing it and it's taking my mind off some things which is good right now so there's that.

“You’re a bad luck charm.”

“I don’t think that’s a thing,” Harry retorted. He’d been nursing a cranberry martini while Niall, Liam, and Zayn had gone to the bar for more drinks and to see about putting in an order of appetizers. Harry had been sitting at the table working on his cranberry marini when Louis had strolled over and sat down next to him. He was looking smug as usual.

“Well it is and you’re mine.”

“Lovely,” Harry took a sip of his drink, wondering why Louis was even bothering with him at all.

“I mean, first the plane gets my seat mixed up. And you just so happen to be sitting there next to me. Then I find out there’s been a mix up at the hotel with the rooms. And bam! There you are again. You’re like a...bad juju.”

“Bad juju,” Harry bit his bottom lip, a smile working its way there.

“You know, that’s the first time I’ve seen you smile since...ever,” Louis mused.

“Well...it hasn’t been a good month. And you were being rude.”

“True,” Louis nodded, “Bad month, eh? I can relate. Probably why I haven’t been on my best behavior towards you.”

Harry took another sip of his martini. His brow furrowed in confusion. Why was Louis even paying him attention? But he had to admit, it did feel nice. For the past few months, Brad had been so distant inspite of all Harry’s efforts to reach out. But Louis? Louis was giving him more attention than anyone had shown him in a long time. And God, it was so nice.

“Tell me about your bad month,” Harry offered, taking another sip of his martini.

“Ha,” Louis tilted his head back before sipping his scotch, “Where to begin, love? Um...my two best friends hooked up and now are officially the grossest couple on the planet. And things are never going to ever be the same again.”

Harry frowned, “Well, you don’t know that they’ll change for the worst. You all seem very close still.”

“Everyone leaves,” Louis frowned into his glass as if it were the cause of his issues.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why do people leave?” Louis asked the drink in his glass.

“Because they don’t know how good they have it,” Harry offered, thoughts drifting to Brad.

Louis smirked into his glass, nodding slightly. He cleared his throat, “You’re not supposed to be thinking about your ex tonight.”

“Who said I was thinking about him?” Harry asked, trying to sound offended. And failing.

Louis’ smirk deepened, “Well, you were. Were you not?”

“Fine, guilty,” Harry blushed slightly - not sure if it was from the alcohol or the fact that Louis’ knee had just brushed against his. His hand tightened on his other knee and he tried to gather some composure here. He was reading too far into things. It was the alcohol. Liquor always could make him slutty.

“Okay, enough of that then,” Louis said decidedly, “We’re going to get you some more alcohol and you and I are going to talk about anything that’s not Zayn, Liam, or your ex. Okay?”

Harry nodded and Louis disappeared to the bar. Harry took the last sip of his martini. Why was Louis being so nice to him anyway? Maybe he just felt sorry for him. They both seemed to be in the same boat at the moment - a little dingy by the name of Pathetic. But he’d been given strictest orders not to think about his bad month or his ex. So that was that. Harry pushed all thoughts of Brad to the back of his mind. Which was easy to do, especially when Louis brought over several drinks balanced in his hands. Liam, Zayn, and Niall were still nowhere in sight. Which Harry didn’t exactly mind. He was starting to enjoy Louis’ company. They seemed to just get each other. Same boat and whatnot.

“Proper liquor,” Louis explained, shoving a glass towards Harry, “Drink up, darling. And tell me about the good things about your month. Surely it hasn’t all been bad. Let’s focus on the good parts, okay?”

“Kay,” Harry took a sip of the drink and blotted his lips with the back of his wrist, “I lost my apartment so I’m living with Niall currently. Which can be fun. Never a dull moment. He’s something else. He’s absolutely delighted by every single little thing. It’s fun to be around someone like that. Now you.”

Louis nodded, sipping his own drink, “Hmm,” he frowned slightly, “Well, being here on this vacation, I guess. It’s nice to get away from regular life for a little while.”

“Where do you live?” Harry asked.

“Why? Are you planning to become a creepy stalker? I’m going to go to get in my shower and pull back my curtain to find you standing there perving?”

Harry laughed louder than he probably should have, “No! Just curious!”

“Manhattan.”

“Me too!” Harry realized he was talking louder as the alcohol was flowing through him.

Six drinks

“I am so glad I can connect with you like this!” Harry was shouting over the pumping music.

“Me too!” Louis also shouted, “I haven’t connected with someone like this in way too long!”

“Do you...do you want to get out of here?” Harry asked. They were currently dancing with each other to some beat Harry couldn’t quite identify as any particular song he knew.

“Harry Styles! Are you hitting on me!”

“Maybe!”

“Well then I have no choice but to say yes!”

“Okay!”

Eight drinks

Louis and Harry walked down the strand with massive plastic bottles of some brightly colored frozen fruity drink. Louis was bitching about it not being a “proper drink” but was slurping it like it was a slushie.

“I just really feel this amazing conenction with you,” Harry said, falling into him.

“Same here. It’s like, I’ve always known you,” Louis was slurring now.

“Exactly!”

“Like...you’re my better half.”

“Exactly!”

Ten drinks...they think.  Kind of lost track there after awhile.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Harry shouted as Louis was pulling on his hand towards the little white building on the strand.

“Never been surer!” Louis yanked harder, “Come on!”

“Okay!” Harry and Louis rushed into the doors. They were all giggles and falling over onto each other, but they somehow managed to fill their names out on the paperwork and show their IDs to the lady at the counter. She told them to have a seat and that they were fourth in line. They sat down on a wooden bench, Harry with his head on Louis’ shoulder.

“I love you so much,” he said.

“And I love you so much too, Haz,” Louis nuzzled into him.

“I can’t believe we’re actually going to do this.”

“I know! It just feels so...right. You know. So fucking right!”

“Nothing’s ever felt righter. Er...more right.”

“Exactly! God, you’re so eloquent when you speak!”

They giggled again, collapsing against each other until a man dressed in an Elvis costume shouted - “Styles and Tomlinson! You’re up!”

* * *

When Harry awoke, he awoke to the sun streaming in through the blinds. God, his head hurt so much. It felt like he’d been beaten with a brick. He squinted, wondering when the sun happened to get so bright. He turned to see if Niall was in his bed, but saw nothing but an empty, perfectly made up bed. Niall was nowhere in sight. Harry dug his cellphone from underneath his pillow. Nineteen missed calls and a dozen missed texts. All from Niall. Harry winced. What had happened last night? He clicked on the texts and began to read -

_Where the fuck are you?_

_Are you okay?_

_You disappeared._

_And so did Louis apparently._

_Where are you two?!?!_

_HARRY!!!!_

_Don’t do anything dumb._

_Please don’t do anything dumb._

_CALL ME._

_CALL ME NOW._

_CALL ME RIGHT FUCKING NOW._

_I AM THREE SECONDS AWAY FROM BEATING YOUR ASS NOW PICK THE FUCK UP!_

_hARRy?_

Harry winced. Okay. This wasn’t good. So he’d gotten separated from Niall last night. But then what had happened? He could feel the cogs turning in his brain as he desperately tried to piece together the puzzle that was his night. Okay. There had been drinks. Louis had been there. They drank. They drank a lot. And talked. And went for a walk. And drank some more. And… Harry stared at his phone as he thought about texting Niall just to see where he was. God, he was in so much trouble. Niall was so pissed. Harry bit his lower lip, staring at the phone in his hands. Then his eye darted to something gold on his left ring finger. It was a ring. A ring that had two gold dice on it. It was cheap and gaudy. Where the fuck did he even get something like...oh no. Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck!_

Harry jumped out of the bed and gasped, clutching his left hand to his chest. This wasn’t real. Surely it had just been a dream. That’s all. Just a dream. He and Louis...there was no way. Harry would never...but there was this ring… Harry ran out to the living room. Niall was fixing coffee at the kitchenette. When he saw Harry, his eyes got really cold. And Harry felt his breath hitch in his throat. Okay. This was not good. None of this was good. Everything was bad. Bad. Bad. Bad. Fuck!

“Niall…” Harry attempted, but Niall held up a hand and stopped him.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Niall said, “You have any clue how worried I was about you last night? And then I come back here to find you and Louis in our room that we’re supposed to share? I spent the night on the couch, Harry. And I thought you’d been drugged or killed or something. But you’re going to be dead now!”

“Niall, please,” Harry’s eyes were swimmy and Niall looked at him through a furrowed brow.

“What happened?” He ran to Harry’s side, “What the hell happened? Harry? Are you...are you crying?” Harry held up his left hand. Niall looked confused. He grabbed Harry’s hand and examined it for any injuries but saw nothing. “I-I don’t get what I’m looking at here.”

“This,” Harry waved his hand in Niall’s face, “This ring!”

“Ew. That’s one hell of an ugly ring.”

“Yeah. I know. It’s my wedding ring.”


	3. What's Mine Is Yours

Niall collapsed onto the couch and Harry sunk down next to him. Niall put his chin in his hands and Harry could almost hear the wheels turning in his head. “Okay,” he said finally, straining his voice to be calm, “Tell me what happened. From the beginning.”

“Well…” Harry felt the blush sting the back of his neck and the tips of his ears, “We - Louis and I - started talking. And we got pretty pissed last night. I don’t even remember how much we had to drink. I lost track after about ten drinks. And he and I were saying how cool it was that we’d connected so well. And next thing I know, I’m at a wedding chapel getting married by Elvis.”

“Elvis.” Niall said flatly.

“Elvis. And then I wake up in bed this morning. And Louis’ not there, but there’s this ring on my finger and everything is so blurry. I don’t even remember having sex with him. Did I have sex with him?”

“You’re fucking married and you’re worried that you had drunk sex? You got _drunk married,_ H!”

“I know,” Harry put his face in his hands, “Have you seen Louis? And the other guys? I don’t even know what to do, but I need to talk to Louis. We need to figure this out and fix this. God, I feel like such an idiot.”

“Okay, deep breath,” Niall said, and Harry wasn’t sure if he was saying it more to himself, “I’m going to knock on Zayn and Liam’s door and we’re going to talk about this and how to go about fixing this. Surely you can get this thing annulled or something.”

“Oh God!” Harry winced pathetically. Niall disappeared to Zayn and Liam’s bedroom. After a few seconds, Harry heard the door click open. Niall went inside to talk to the two of them and Harry was left suddenly completely alone.

He felt mortified. He never got drunk and he certainly never did anything like this before? His head felt swimmy and he just wanted to wake up already. The front door of the suit opened and Louis came in carrying cups of coffee. When he saw Harry, he bit at his bottom lip. The tips of his ears were turning red too. Okay. So Louis was just as embarrassed as he was about last night. At least that was something. At least they were on the same page.

“I brought you coffee,” Louis walked over to Harry and offered him a cup, which Harry accepted.

“Thanks.” He had no idea how to even go about bringing up last night? What do you even say? Hey honey, it’s your husband here. About drunkenly getting married? I think we should get a divorce and move on with our lives as if it never happened? Harry took a deep breath and sipped his coffee.

“So, we got hitched, huh?” Harry looked up sharply and blinked. Okay. Well that was one way of going about it.

“Apparently so,” he held up his left hand with the ring on it, “Awful taste in jewelry.”

“You picked it out, remember?” God. Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. How much more did Louis remember that he couldn’t? The very thought made him even dizzier. He flung his head back against the couch cushion and let out something that came out like a growl.

“Sexy,” Louis smirked, raising an eyebrow.

“YOU!” Harry turned on him suddenly, “You’re the reason I’m even in this mess! You...you seduced me!”

Louis had been taking a sip of coffee and actually spewed it out at that moment, “Are...are you fucking kidding me right now?” Louis was laughing. Actually fucking laughing. Harry could just kill him. “ _You_ were the one who suggested we get married, _darling._ ”

“I-I wouldn’t! And don’t call me darling!”

“Darling. Darling. Darling. It’s called a term of endearment, darling. And it’s what married people, darling, use, darling.”

“I hate you.”

“Love you too, darling.”

“LOUIS!”

“Oh shit.” Louis glanced up to see Niall, Liam, and Zayn walking towards them. They all three had their angriest faces on, their arms folded across their chests. Well, this wasn’t going to go over well at all. Louis decided his best course of measure was humor. “Hey,” he pinned on his best and brightest smile, “Sorry you missed the ceremony, boys. But we can always have a post-wedding reception. I still expect to be spoiled rotten for my belated bachelor party.”

“Jesus,” Liam hissed, “Lou, this is a new low. Even for you.”

“Hey!” Harry looked slightly offended.

“Sorry, Harry,” Liam sighed, “but it’s true. And I think you know it too. You two can’t seriously think this is a good thing.”

“Oh, of course not. It’s bloody terrible,” Louis tossed an arm over the back of the couch, “but what can you do about it but laugh? We’ll get it all sorted. We’ll get the whole thing annulled.”

“Why are you so casual about this?” Zayn asked, “This is a huge deal, Louis. It’s not just something that can be erased and forgotten about!”

“You all were the ones that left me alone with him and us alone with endless alcohol,” Louis raised a brow, “So really...who’s to blame here.”

“Oh my god!” Zayn pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You’re a disaster,” Liam had no idea how to even react to that, “Don’t you dare try to spin this on us! You two were the ones that took off without even telling anyone where you went!”

“Too much yelling!” Harry winced, massaging his temples.

“Oh, sorry,” Niall apologized then got up really close to Harry’s ear and shouted, “ARE YOU HUNG OVER?”

“God!” Harry buried his face between his knees. Anytime you want to wake up from this nightmare, go ahead, H. We’re all waiting…

“Okay,” Louis cleared his throat, “We messed up. Big time. We get that. Trust me. We do. But right now, there’s nothing we can do about it this second. We will get it sorted. But right now, we’re all very hungover and very hungry and we should go get some breakfast. Harry and I will deal with this, right?” Louis asked, raising a brow at Harry.

“Of course,” Harry nodded, “We will handle it.”

“Fine,” Niall shook his head, “But I’m still pissed at you.”

They all headed downstairs for the breakfast buffet. Harry didn’t realize until they were on the elevator that he was still wearing the horrible ring. Had he really been the one to pick it out? He wanted to take it off, but part of him thought that doing so in front of Louis would be rude. So he kept it on, shoving his hand into his jeans’ pocket. Once they were downstairs, they fixed their plates of food and sat down at one of the tables in the dining area. Niall was still glaring daggers at Harry even as they ate. Liam and Zayn were a little frigid too, but they were being grossly adorable with each other. And Louis? Louis kept playing with his lips with his fingers. He looked slightly lost in thought. And when he announced that he was going to check out the slots, Harry excused himself too. He knew he needed to talk to Louis alone without the rest of the guys hovering or being angry.

“Got a quarter?” Louis asked as Harry leaned against the machine he was sitting at. Harry dug around and found one in his pocket. He handed it to Louis and Louis popped it into the machine.

“I can’t believe we did that,” Harry sighed, shaking his head, “What were we thinking?”

“That we were lonely and drunk and that the other was there,” Louis shrugged. It was true. That’d been exactly what they’d thought. And Harry took a deep breath. There was this thing between he and Louis. Even he could feel it now. It hadn’t just been the alcohol.

“It was still really dumb though,” Harry kicked at the carpet.

“Again,” Louis sighed, “ _You_ were the one that wanted to go through with it. You suggested it. And I gave you ample time to back out of going through with it. You were all on board with the idea.”

“I just can’t imagine that though.”

“Are you calling me a liar?” Louis’ eyes narrowed in on Harry.

“N-no!” Harry said defensively, “Not at all. It’s just hard to picture myself having done something like that.”

“And you think this is something I do on the regular?” Louis quirked a brow and Harry could hear the anger brewing in his voice, “Like, oh yeah. Louis just _loves_ getting sloshed in Vegas and marrying strange men!”

“I’m not a strange man!”

“Whatever,” Louis shook his head and reached to spin the slots. He stood up and began to walk away as the tiles spun. Harry followed after him -

“Lou, just talk to me!”

“We said enough last night.”

“Lou!”

Just then an alarm sounded. Lights flashed. Confetti even dropped from the ceiling. Harry and Louis froze. They turned in tandem back to the machine. Triple 7’s. Louis’ jaw fell lax and Harry was quite positive by now that this was all just one huge dream.

“Oh...my...god!” Louis slowly walked back to the machine, “Oh...my...god!”

And before they knew it, the manager of the casino was handing them a massive cardboard check worth $500,000 and Harry and Louis were posing for photos as their friends stood off to the side, jaws lax, in utter shock.

“I can’t believe we won,” Harry gasped, clutching one end of the check.

“What do you mean we won?” Louis yanked on the check, “I won.”

“Uh...it was my quarter,” Harry reminded him, yanking the check back.

“But it was my machine.” Yank.

“My quarter.” Yank.

“My machine!” Yank.

“Fine then. Your machine. But listen up, babe,” Harry grinned evilly as he held up his left ring finger as though he were flipping Louis off, “What’s yours is mine, _darling._ ”


	4. Touchdown! Goal! Slam-Dunk!

It was the day of their court appearance to discuss annulling their marriage with the judge. Harry and Louis hadn’t spoken to each other since Vegas except through their lawyers. Which was annoying, but Harry supposed it was for the best. He wasn't sure how he'd be if did interract with Louis. Things had been very uneasy the remainder of their Vegas trip. Most communication had been via Niall, Liam, and Zayn. But now things were finally going to be settled. Harry had a pretty good lawyer who he knew would look out for his interest - see to it that Harry got what he was rightfully due. Harry entered the courtroom with his lawyer and Niall trailing behind him. They took their rightful spot and waited for Louis to arrive with his lawyer. Harry's stomach twisted in knots. At least all of this would be over soon.

The judge - Judge Marshall Brown - stared at his wristwatch impatiently. Louis was running slightly late. Of course. Harry sighed and looked down at his left hand. The ugly ring had been long-since taken off. Ugly, cheap thing had actually left a green mark around Harry's finger. Even though the ring was no longer there, Harry still had the mark it'd left behind. A pretty constant reminder. Finally the courtroom doors opened up and Louis and his lawyer entered. Harry inhaled sharply at the sight of Louis. He was dressed in a smashing navy blue suit and his hair had been styled perfectly. Harry felt slightly underdressed in his dress pants and button down. Did Louis genuinely think dressing to the nines was going to get him points with the judge?

The judge heard from both lawyers and finally cleared his throat to announce his decision.

“Alright, gentlemen. You went to Vegas. You had a drunken one night stand and apparently ended up married in the process,” as the judge said it out loud, Harry felt his stomach clench. He knew it was bad, but actually hearing it out loud like that made it a thousand times worse, “And then while legally married, you happened to win $500,000 in a slot machine jackpot. This is by far one of the strangest cases I have ever had pass through my courtroom. And I must say. I’m unimpressed. You got married on a whim, and now you want to dissolve your marriage, collect your money, and be on your way, correct?”

Harry stared at his hands. He couldn’t even look over to Louis. No way. Not in that suit and not with those cheekbones and swept up hair.

“Well, I have some news for you. Marriage isn’t a joke. It’s not something you can just erase. You are married. You’re husband and husband. And I take marriage very seriously. Been married to my beautiful wife, Estella for twenty-eight years. And yes, there are times when I want to kill her. But I don’t. Do you know why I don’t? Because I love her. And that would be illegal. So when things get difficult, we work through them. Together. As a team. A united front.”

The judge reviewed a paper on his desk before continuing, “I am so sick and tired of young people not having responsibility and owning up to what they’ve done. So I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. You two are not going to get your divorce. Instead, you’re going to move in together. And attend marriage counseling once a week with a court-appointed counselor. You’re going to stay married for the next three months. I’m forcing you to have to try here, gentlemen. Now then, if at the course of three months you still want a divorce, we will go from there. But I’m going to see an effort from both of you.”

He continued, “Now then, you can say no to this agreement. I’m not legally bound to force you into marriage. But if you say no, I’ll tie up your money in litigation for so long you won’t see a cent from in for a very, very long time. Say yes to this, and at the end of three months I will unfreeze your money. And you can go on with life as per usual. Now then, have a good day. And congratulations on your wedding.”

Harry felt physically ill. He shot a pleading look to his lawyer who just shrugged. “There’s nothing I can do, Harry. He’s made his decision.”

“This is so fucked up!” Louis was drilling into his lawyer now from across the courtroom, “Can he do this?”

“I guess so.”

“You _guess_ so?”

“He’s the judge-man, he can do whatever he wants. I think.”

“You think?” Louis’ voice was now even louder, “You’re the worst lawyer ever!”

“So...where do we go from here?” Harry asked.

“Well, you have to move in together.”

“What?” Louis had overheard that and now was storming over.

Niall moved to stand next to Zayn and Liam. The three shot each other sympathetic looks. This was going to be a wild ride. They were going to have to get used to just sitting back and watching.

“Where’s popcorn when you need it?” Liam hissed, Niall doubled over and hid a laugh behind a fist.

“You two are going to have to move in together now,” Harry’s lawyer explained to Louis, “It’s what the judge said to do. So, who is moving in with who?”

“I guess I have to move in with him,” Harry kicked at the flooring, “I still don’t have my own place. And I don’t think Niall would be okay with both of us staying with him. So looks like I’m moving in with you.”

“Um, no.”

“Louis, judge’s orders.”

“You have to,” Harry’s lawyer sighed, gathering his briefcase, “I’m sorry guys. I know this isn’t ideal. Honestly, Judge Marshall Brown is usually pretty tough, but I never even expected him to do this. Just...try to make it work these next few months. Then you can get your marriage dissolved, get your money, and move on.”

* * *

Later that afternoon, Niall and Harry arrived at Louis’ flat with boxes of Harry’s things. Niall was actually kind of glad - not that he’d dare admit that. He’d finally have his own flat back, and room to walk without bumping into Harry’s numerous boxes. There were so many boxes. Harry pressed the buzzer with his hip, massive box marked BOOTS in his arms. A few moments later, Louis came downstairs with Zayn and Liam.

“Be sure to get pictures, mates,” Louis instructed, “To show the courts the effort I’m making,” he shot Harry a saccharine smile, “Look at me helping my _husband_ with his boxes,” Liam snapped a picture as Louis moved to take the box from Harry, “If we can prove to the courts we’re really trying, maybe he’ll unfreeze our money faster,” he explained, “Why the fuck do you have a huge box of just boots?”

“I like boots.” Louis rolled his eyes but carried it inside anyway.

After about thirty minutes, all Harry’s boxes were inside Louis’ cramped flat. It was already horribly messy, and the boxes weren’t doing anything to improve that.

“So,” Harry inhaled, “If we can prove to the court that we’re actually trying, you think they’ll unfreeze the money faster?”

“Worth a shot,” Louis shrugged. Harry pointed to Liam, “Put it on video,” he scooped Louis up into his arms much to Louis’ _very_ vocal protests, and carried him outside the door of the flat. “Look,” Harry announced, “Carrying my _husband_ over the threshold. How _romantic_.”

“Put me the fuck down you fuck,” Louis hissed in Harry’s ear.

“Well, if you insist, baby,” Harry grinned wickedly, dropping Louis to the floor with a thud. Niall buried his face in Liam’s arm to hide his laughter. Zayn rolled his eyes. Oh yes, this was definitely going to be an interesting three months…

Zayn, Liam, and Niall headed back to their own apartments that evening. Harry was organizing some of his things, unpacking his boxes, and getting everything all in order. Louis was sitting on the couch, feet on the coffee table, sipping a beer. Harry was organizing his shoes along one wall of the living room. Louis rolled his eyes.

“How many pairs of metallic boots do you need?”

“As many as I want to have,” Harry replied without even looking up.

Louis rolled his eyes again and turned his attention back to the soccer game on the TV.

Harry finally stood and brushed off the knees of his dress pants, “All done,” he announced, realizing then it was to no one in particular.

“Now what about the other boxes?” Louis asked, “I’m not just having these boxes sit here for the next three months.”

“Do you have a closet or something for me?” Harry asked.

“Check there,” Louis nodded to a small door next to the bathroom.

Harry opened it. Which was a mistake. A beach ball, two pool noodles, an old boombox, and a pair of fuzzy red handcuffs came tumbling down at him.

“Oops,” Louis smirked, “Forgot to mention. That’s the closet I just sort of throw things into. So be careful. Something might…” another beach ball hit Harry in the head, “...fall on you.”

Harry picked up Louis’ things and shoved them angrily back in the closet. He tried not to pay too much attention to the red fuzzy handcuffs. They’d probably been given to Louis as a gag gift anyway, right?

“So...about these boxes?” Harry asked, slamming the closet door shut before anything else had a chance to fall on him, “What should I do with them?”

“Put them in the bedroom I guess,” Louis shrugged, returning his attention to his game - thanking God that he was able to get British football games on certain channels.

“I guess tonight I will sleep on the couch then?” Harry asked from the bedroom where he was arranging his boxes.

“Well you’re not sleeping in my bed. Couch, floor, hallway, motel, Niall’s couch...wherever.”

“I’m kind of scared to against what Judge Marshall Brown said to do,” Harry admitted, “So I’ll just stay on the couch. When are you going to go to bed?” He stifled a yawn. It was late and he’d gotten no sleep the night before.

“When I feel like it,” Louis shrugged, stretching out across the couch.

“Oh,” Harry’s face fell, “There is a TV in your bedroom I noticed. Maybe you could just...watch the game in there? And that way...I could get some sleep out here?”

“Sorry, love. I’m comfortable where I am. Like I said, floor and hallway are other options too.”

Harry shook his head and grabbed a blanket and his pillow from one of his boxes. He marched over to the couch and with ease, picked up Louis’ legs and moved them off the cushion so he could sit. He curled himself up on the one cushion - impressive with how lanky he was - and covered up with his blanket. He put his pillow behind his head and said cheerfully -

“Is this football?”

“Soccer, but yeah. Football,” Louis eyed him suspiciously.

“So whoever’s team makes the most baskets, wins?”

Louis pinched the bridge of his nose, “Sort of.”

“Which team has the most home runs so far?”

Louis’ eyes peeled from the TV to Harry. They were already narrowed into those little angry slits, “It’s called a _goal_ ,” Louis explained, “This isn’t American football or basketball or baseball. It’s soccer.”

A team in red scored and Harry gleefully said, "Slam-dunk!'

" _Goal_ ," Louis corrected, his voice strained.

“Oh,” Harry nodded, keeping his mouth shut for just a moment longer. Right as Louis nestled back against the couch and watched, his attention fixated on the screen, Harry asked again, “So…” he hid a smirk behind a hand, pointing at the ball with his free hand, “...is that the puck?”

“Fuck!” Louis hopped up from the couch and Harry kicked his feet out, taking up the whole couch.

Louis saw this and his eyes narrowed, “Wait...you...you were doing that on purpose. Just so I’d get mad and you could get the couch?”

“You’re _so_ smart, darling,” Harry smiled innocently, “I played football a lot with the kids back home in London growing up. I was horrible at it, to be honest, but I do know the gist of the game. This couch is quite comfortable. I like it.”

“I hate you,” Louis’ words were clipped.

“You’re just pissy because I outsmarted you. I could have taken the bedroom. But I didn’t. You can still go watch your game on your TV from your king sized bed.”

Louis let out an exasperated groan and marched to the bedroom. As soon as Harry heard the slam of the door, he turned up the TV slightly and nestled in to watch the game.


	5. The First Morning at Louis'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Talk of masturbation, and lyrics to inappropriate songs.
> 
> Songs mentioned: "It Wasn't Me" - Shaggy and "The Amazing Willy Wanker" - Adam Sandler.

“Honey came in and she caught me red-handed creeping with the girl next door; picture this, we were both butt naked, banging on the bathroom floor!”

Harry’s eyes snapped open. Music. Loud music. And an even louder Louis singing along.

It took him a moment to remember where he was. He glanced around and saw the sports magazines and car magazines scattered messily on the coffee table, the smell of sweat hung in the air. There was a pair of boxers tossed over a lamp shade. And a massive Iron Man poster on the wall. Ah yes. He was at Louis’.

“Honey came in and she caught me red-handed creeping with the girl next door; picture this, we were both butt naked, banging on the bathroom floor!”

Harry rubbed the sleep from his eyes. It was still dark outside. The clock on the cable box said 4am. Harry took a deep breath and glanced up to see Louis dancing around the kitchen, blasting the music. Harry’s jaw fell lax. This was unbelievable. It was four in the bloody morning!

“What the hell, Louis?”

“Oh, you’re up,” Louis paused his dancing and looked at Harry, blinking, “Did I wake you?”

“What do you think?” Harry grumbled, “It’s four in the morning. Why are you blasting music at four in the morning?”

“Yesterday you said you work as a baker. And that you usually have to be up by five thirty. So I just decided I’d be thoughtful and wake you up earlier. Just to be sure you got to work in time.”

“Oh my God,” Harry massaged his temples. He hadn’t slept very well anyway, and now he was up an hour and a half before he needed to be, “This isn’t happening.”

“Shh...you’re interrupting,” Louis said, going back to dancing and loudly singing along.

“You’re not real and this is not happening.”

Louis danced over into the living room and smirked at Harry, “I’m about as real as that morning wood you’ve got, darling.”

Harry’s jaw fell lax and he looked down at the blanket tenting in his lap, “Go away!” Harry threw his head back against his pillow.

“My flat. You want me to go away? _You_ go away.”

“Whatever,” Harry stood from the couch, “I’m just er...going to go to the bathroom.”

“You do that,” Louis nodded.

Harry felt a blush stinging his cheeks. How the fuck was he expected to survive living with Louis for three whole months? It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours yet and they were already driving each other crazy. As soon as he shut the bathroom door and locked it, he gasped. Louis’ bathroom was even worse than the rest of the flat. There were various bottles and tubes and things just tossed about. Harry felt disgusting just standing there. How could one person be such a mess? Right. Louis Tomlinson wasn’t a person. He was a bloody tornado.

Harry figured his problem could wait a moment. He sure as hell wasn’t going to “solve it” in a bathroom that looked like this. He opened a drawer in the counter to put some of the items away when he saw a bright purple dildo sitting in the drawer.

“Jesus!” Harry slammed that shut as fast as possible.

He gingerly picked up various bottles and tubes and put them in the cabinet. Scared of opening up any more drawers.

“How you doin’ in there?” Louis tapped a knuckle on the door.

“Go away!”

“I have to pee.”

“Too bad. I’m in here. By the way, your bathroom is disgusting.”

“Thank you.”

“Not a compliment. And don’t you think some items would be better off in a bedroom, not the bathroom?”

“Hmm,” Louis hummed casually, “No. Just hurry up in there.”

“I could if you’d stop talking to me!”

“Are you jerking off?”

“Lewis!”

“What?” Louis chuckled from the other side of the door.

Harry fumed. He felt his cheeks hot with blush and he could almost feel steam coming from his ears. This was not happening. He pulled down his sweat pants and began to go to work on “fixing his problem.” Louis disappeared for a brief moment, giving Harry some privacy. But was back a second later. He held his iPod up to the bathroom door and -

“A little tin soldier's marchin by; Sergeant major unzips his fly pulls his weapon from his camouflage pants; slaps away til it starts to dance.”

Harry let out a groan, “Lewis, what the fuck!”

“Adam Sandler. Just thought you might like a bit of soundtrack.”

“God damn it!” Harry sputtered, he couldn’t believe this was actually real. That this was actually a thing that was actually happening.

“Ah! The amazing Willy Wanker! Ah! The amazing Willy Wanker! And my scrotum sack he says Lalalalalala, tickle me!”

Harry threw his head back and tucked himself back into his sweat pants, frustrated and bitter and angry. He tied the drawstring of his sweat pants and threw open the bathroom door to see Louis standing there holding his iPod up.

“Are you quite done?” Harry asked.

“Are you?”

“No,” Harry pushed past Louis.

“What was stopping you?” Louis asked, innocently, “Blue balls are horrible. Best get back in there and fix that.”

“I can’t exactly do that with you playing that song through the door. God,” Harry groaned, “You’re the most impossible, infuriating person I’ve ever encountered! And I’m fucking married to you. Fucking beautiful!”

Louis collapsed onto the couch, giggling, “Just doing what I can, love.”

Harry shook his head and ducked down to his suitcase to pull out his clothes for the day. He wasn’t going to let Louis Tomlinson ruin his day. He was going to get dressed, go to work, and focus on his job. And forget that Louis Tomlinson even existed. At least being at work meant eight hours away from him.

“C’mere,” Louis waved his hand over, “I’m sorry. That was mean of me. I know blue balls really fucking suck and I shouldn’t have been a distracting little twat.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. Okay. That was new. Louis actually apologizing. Harry took a deep breath and walked over to Louis. Okay, maybe he was just being a little prick and felt badly about it. At least he’d apologized for it, right…

“Oof!” Harry’s hand flew to his crotch as he doubled over in pain. Louis was actually fucking laughing. “You just punched me in the balls!” Harry’s voice was strained.

“But it did fix your little problem, didn’t it?” Louis smiled innocently, “You should be thanking me.”

“ _Thanking you?_ ” Harry slowly peeled his eyes to Louis, “I hate you! I wish I’d never even gone to Vegas in the first place. I knew it was a mistake. Now then, I’m going to go change and head to work. Like a responsible adult. You can do whatever it is catalog models do.”

“Play Playstation all day unless I get a call from my manager,” Louis smirked, grabbing a controller off the coffee table, “But I’ll probably just go back to bed in a bit. I mean, it’s way too fucking early to function.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed, “You think?”

He grabbed his clothes and changed in the bathroom. Okay. In about thirty minutes he’d be at the bakery. And his focus can be on flour and fondant. Not Louis Tomlinson. And he could pretend for eight hours that Louis Tomlinson was not a thing in his life. And certainly not his husband. _Husband._

Harry glanced down at the green mark circling his finger. He’d wanted to be married since he was about fifteen. He’d always looked forward to his wedding and marriage and being a spouse. This was certainly not how he’d planned on things going. And he felt like he’d betrayed himself. Now instead of giggles and cuddles and cooking together and steamy sex and romantic gestures, he got Louis Tomlinson. Harry sat down on the edge of the tub and put his head in his hands. This was not how it was supposed to be. Not at all. If his fifteen year old self could see him now….Harry felt mortified with himself. He should never have gone to Vegas. He should never have had so much to drink. And he most certainly should not have married Louis Tomlinson. Louis _fucking_ Tomlinson.

Just his name made Harry’s blood bubble and turn to soda within his veins. Three months. This was his punishment for his poor judgment. He supposed he deserved it. Now if only he could get through the next few months without killing Louis, or himself…


	6. Trophies and Accomplishments

“You’re kidding!”

“Afraid not,” Harry scooped off some fresh-out-of-the-oven cookies off the baking tray and slipped them into the glass display. Niall was sitting on one of the bar stools, sipping a latte and munching on a cupcake. Harry’s boss, Elaine, never minded when Niall would hang out at the bakery, sometimes for two or more hours. Just as long as Harry got all his work done. Which he always did.

“He actually played a song about…” Niall lowered his voice to a hushed whisper “... _masturbation_ through the bathroom door?”

“Yup,” Harry replied, popping the ‘p.’

“Good Lord,” Niall chuckled to himself.

“Niall, this isn’t funny!” Harry protested, “It’s actually quite the opposite, really. I hate him. I never even knew I was capable of that emotional until I met Louis. I actually, genuinely, sincerely hate him.”

“Funny,” Niall licked the frosting off the side of his palm, “According to Zayn, Louis says the same about you.”

“Zayn?” Harry quirked an eyebrow, “Since when are you chummy with Louis’ BFFs?”

“Since we all bonded over you two idiots,” Niall shrugged honestly, “According to Zayn and Liam, Louis can’t stand you either.”

“Lovely,” Harry frowned, wondering why that made him feel even worse. It wasn’t like he _cared_ what Louis thought of him anyway, right? What did it matter if he hated him?

“We were actually thinking of doing a movie night.”

“Who?” Harry set the pan back on a shelf and retrieved more cookies from the oven.

“Zayn suggested it. You, me, Tommo, Liam, Zayn…”

“Tommo?” Harry quirked an eyebrow now, “You have nicknames for him now?” Niall shrugged sheepishly and Harry sighed exasperatedly. This was unreal.

“We just thought that since you and I are like family, and he’s like family with them...we could like a big ol’ family movie night or game night sometime.”

“Family?” Harry was trying to keep up. Of course Nialler would go and make friends with Louis’ friends. And of course they’d want to have a family night with all of them together. This was going to be a bloody disaster.

“Mmhmm. So how does Friday sound?”

“Friday. I thought you said someday. Friday is two days away.”

Niall shrugged again, “It’s when works best for us.”

Harry really wanted to be angry with Niall, but he just couldn’t be. Niall was trying to be helpful in his own roundabout way. Knowing Niall, he figured that all of them being friends or at least attempting to, would make it ultimately easier in the end. And Harry loved him for that. And made sure to thank him for his efforts by giving him an extra cupcake “on the house.”

* * *

 

“I’m cleaning!” Harry announced when he got back to the flat. Louis was sitting on the couch in his pajamas still - in spite of it being 5pm - playing some game on the Playstation. He turned around and raised an eyebrow at Harry.

“Good for you. Don’t touch my stuff.”

“Your stuff is the problem,” Harry explained, “Whatever I pick up, I’ll put in your room, okay?”

“Why are you cleaning anyway?” Louis asked, looking back to the TV.

“Because, we are having guests Friday night.”

“Guests.” It wasn't exactly a question.

“Yes. Zayn and Liam want to come over for a movie night or a game night - according to Niall…”

“- Hold up,” Louis interrupted, pausing his game and turning back to face Harry, “Since when do those three hang out and make plans?”

“No idea.”

“Great,” Louis grumbled as if it were anything but, “So the three of them are coming over here then? For a movie night.”

“Something along those lines, yes.”

“They’re here all the time,” Louis protested, “They know what my place looks like and it sure as shit doesn’t need to be clean for them to come over.”

“Well, as of yesterday, this is my home too now,” Harry reminded him, “And I don’t want it to look like a tornado blew through here for our guests. I’m going to clean. It’s going to be spotless. And you’re going to shut up about it and be thankful I’m not making you help. Considering it is your mess and all….”

“I like it how it is,” Louis mumbled, “I like my mess.”

“It’s disgusting!” Harry insisted. He walked around to the lamp and gingerly picked up the pair of boxers with his gloved hand, “Look at this! Who _lives_ like this! With their boxers lain around on the furniture!”

“Those aren’t mine,” Louis responded flatly.

“Then who’s are they?”

“I dunno,” Louis shrugged, “they just ended up there one night when we were trying to just get naked as fast as possible. His name was...Luke? Lucas? Linus? I dunno! But I made him come four times in a row so I kept them as a trophy.”

“F-four times?” Harry bit his bottom lip, trying desperately - _oh so_ desperately - to keep his composure. Surely Louis was exaggerating. Just trying to get under his skin. Trying to get a rise from Harry. Well he wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. Harry straightened his shoulders and tried to push all thoughts of Louis making someone come four times out of his head.

“Mmhmm,” Louis nodded, not taking his eyes off Harry’s, “Four times. Well, in a row. I’ve made guys come way more in one night but this was four times back to back, no breaks.”

“ _Jesus._ ”

Shit. He’d said that out loud. And now Louis was smirking, his eyebrows raised and that damned amused smirk playing at his lips. Like this was the funniest thing to him, but not allowing himself to laugh. Harry took a deep breath. Good job, Harry. Way to go. Just let him know how much that turned you on, why don’t you. Good lord.

“How many times has a guy made you come in a row, Harry?” Louis asked in the same tone he’d used to ask “Do we need more milk from the grocery store?”

Oh fuck. _Fuck!_ “That’s...none of your business,” Harry turned back around to the lampshade and deposited the underwear into a large trash bag.

“Don’t throw those out,” Louis protested, “Like I said - trophy. Of my accomplishment.”

Harry braced himself, “Accomplishment? It’s gross, Louis. And fine. I won’t throw them out. I’ll put whatever is making a mess of the flat in this bag and put this bag in your room. You can sort it out later. But these are definitely not staying in the living room.”

Harry cleared his throat and added, “I’m not even going to mention the fact that that you don’t remember the lad’s name. Just how many times you made him...yeah. Your choice of extracurriculars is something else.”

“Curious?” Louis hopped up from the couch and walked slowly towards Harry. And Harry set his jaw tightly, praying the pulse in his neck wasn’t giving him away.

“No,” Harry replied, managing to keep his voice as flat and as level as possible. He pushed past Louis and to the coffee table where he began to organize the car and sports magazines into stacks. He then placed them on the shelf under the coffee table.

“I think you are,” Louis plopped back down on the couch and was still smirking, “I mean, it’s only natural for your curiosity to be a bit…” eyebrows shot up, “peaked.”

“Oh my god,” Harry swallowed hard, “You’re quite impossible, aren’t you?”

“Something I pride myself on.”

Harry let out a breath. He bee-lined it to the kitchen just to escape Louis and be able to breathe normally. Once in the kitchen, he leaned against the fridge and tried to steady his breathing. Louis was surreal. After regaining some composure, Harry went back to tidying up. Louis had cereal boxes and tea scattered all over the kitchen counters. He made a good effort to organize it all as much as he could. From the living room, Louis was still playing his video game.

Next, Harry decided to tackle the bathroom. He stayed out of the drawers though - after having learned his lesson the day before. He organized the different items on the counter into the medicine cabinet and cleaned out the rust stain from the tub. It amazed him that Louis could look as sharp as he had in court, and live like a twelve year old boy.

“How’s it goin’ in there?” Louis leaned against the bathroom door frame as Harry was elbows-deep in the tub, scrubbing.

“Fine. Don’t suppose you’d want to offer any assistance?”

“Ah, but you’re doing such a standup job at it, though.” Harry rolled his eyes, wiping his brow with the back of his wrist. Of course Louis wouldn’t help. Louis was perfectly content watching Harry do all the work. Then, out of nowhere, Louis let out a soft exhale from his nose and Harry turned to see what the issue was.

“Hmm?” He asked.

“Nothing,” Louis folded his arms over his chest, “Just like seeing you on your hands and knees. It’s a good position for you.”

Jesus. “Out!”

“What?” Louis’ smirk broke into a full-blown grin.

“Get out!”

“Okay, okay,” he held up his hands in surrender, backing out of the bathroom and leaving Harry.

Once he was gone, Harry wiped his brow again. Jesus. Fuck. Shit. This was not okay. This was bad. Very. Very. Very. Bad. Harry felt his head go swimmy, and blamed the bleach fumes. After all, Louis was just doing this to be a pain. Just to get a rise from him. He was like a petulant child and the only solution was to ignore him until he grew bored.

Yeah, ignoring Louis Tomlinson. Harry knew that was definitely easier said than done.


	7. Movie Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Spoilers for the movie "Stand By Me." Also, this is an excellent movie and I highly suggest it!

“They’ll be here any minute,” Harry said, knowing it was useless with Louis only paying half-attention to anything he ever said, “Let me just pull out the cheese platter…”

“Cheese platter?” Louis cocked an eyebrow and leaned with his arms against the bar of the kitchen counter, “H, you know it’s just friends over for a movie night, right? We’ll probably pop open some beers and order pizza. Why are you always so... _domestic_ about things?”

“Look,” Harry stubbornly set out the cheese platter, “Ever since I can remember basically, I’ve wanted to be a spouse. And I’m somewhat old fashioned. I enjoy doing the cooking and cleaning and hosting get togethers. And maybe this marriage isn’t ideal, but I’m still someone’s spouse. And to me, that means having a cheese platter for our friends when they come over.”

Louis’ eyes widened a bit and he wet his lips, but didn’t say anything to that. Which Harry was grateful for. It was honestly the first moment he’d been sort of open like that with Louis since the night they’d gotten...yeah. Louis reached over and grabbed a cube of aged cheddar. Harry slapped his hand but he popped it into his mouth anyway.

“Yum!”

“Don’t! You’ll eat it all before they even come over!”

“There’s plenty,” Louis grabbed another cheese cube and Harry slapped him again, “Ow! Violence is never the answer!”

Harry sighed and shook his head. He pulled down some glasses from the counter.

“Don’t tell me,” Louis smirked, “You’ve made punch too.”

“No...” Harry’s eyes narrowed.

“Hmm,” Louis hopped up off the counter and went to the fridge. Harry braced himself against the fridge’s door, “If there’s no punch, why are you being defensive?”

“I am not being defensive!”

“Then move!”

“No.”

“Okay,” Louis’ hands grabbed at Harry’s ribs and Harry jumped back, letting out the most surprised and pathetic of yelps. Louis swung open the fridge and grinned, “Ah-ha! I knew it!” He lifted out a pitcher of pinky-orange punch, “Punch. You are such a _wife!_ ” Louis said, but he had a smile on his face as he peeled the cellophane off the top of the glass pitcher.

“Shut up!” Harry grumbled, folding his arms over his chest. He just wanted to make everything nice for tonight. What was so wrong with that? Besides, he thought about Niall’s intentions - about wanting them all to be friends. And it had sounded nice. Harry just wanted to make it so that everyone would enjoy each other.

“Oh, Hazza,” Louis clicked his tongue and Harry wondered where in the fuck that nickname had come from. He opened his mouth to ask, just as the front door opened. Zayn, Liam, and Niall walked in. Liam was carrying two six-packs of beer.

“Washappinen!” Zayn grinned, pulling Louis into a sideways hug.

“Brought beer!” Liam set it down on the counter, “What’s that?” He pointed suspiciously at the pitcher.

“Oh, Harry’s made punch,” Louis took the beer and put them in the fridge, “We’re going to have proper refreshments - a cheese platter and punch - first. Then later on we can order in pizza and have beer.”

“Punch?” Niall raised a brow to Harry who just wanted to melt into the tile flooring. It’d been stupid. He shouldn’t have made a cheese platter or punch. What had he been thinking in the first place? He felt his cheeks grow slightly hot.

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it, Nialler,” Louis surprised Harry by saying, “It’s pretty damn good.” He hadn’t even tasted it yet. And he was defending it. Louis shot Harry a wink and began to pour the punch into the glasses Harry’d set out. Okay. That was weird. Was Louis actually trying to make him feel better.

“Okay,” Liam nodded, “This shit is pretty good!”

“Thank you,” Harry preened under the compliment.

“Cheese!” Zayn popped a cube into his mouth, “Harry, this is the greatest! Usually whenever we come over, it’s always pizza and beer. Beer and pizza. Sometimes even beer and stale pizza from the last time. But this...is great.”

“Thanks!”

Okay. So maybe it hadn’t been stupid after all. Harry felt a little proud of himself. Okay...maybe more than just a little proud of himself.

“C’mon lads,” Louis grabbed the tray of cheese and headed into the living room, “Let’s pick a movie.”

“Well, you haven’t killed each other yet,” Niall whispered, he and Harry hanging back a second.

“Not yet,” Harry sighed, watching Louis pass around the cheese plate, “But there’s been several close calls.” He was certain Niall meant him wanting to kill Louis and vice versa. But by close calls, Harry meant the times Louis was able to completely take his breath away in the matter of a second.

“Come on, you two!” Louis waved them over, “Haz, you’re sitting next to me!”

“Uh...okay,” Harry slid onto the cushion of the couch next to Louis.

He felt mildly bad for Niall - Liam and Zayn were taking up the other two cushions, and Niall got the floor. But then Louis put his arm across the back of the couch, centimeters from Harry’s shoulders, and Harry found himself not feeling so badly for Niall anymore.

“What should we watch?” Louis asked, pulling up Netflix on the Playstation. “Haz, any preferences?”

Niall leaned his head back so that he was looking at Harry and mouthed, “Haz?” Harry just shrugged at him.

“Um...no preference really. Anything works for me. Actually,” he blushed slightly. Netflix did have his favorite movie. He didn’t know though if he should actually say something though. He still felt like an intrusion in Louis’ home. But Louis was nudging him gently. Harry took a breath and said, “Stand By Me is really good.”

“Ooh,” Zayn clutched his heart, “River Pheonix...my heart!”

“Hey!” Liam smacked him in the arm, “Easy there, love. Don’t make me hose you off with cold water.”

“Just sayin’,” Zayn held up his hands in surrender.

Louis laughed. And Harry tried not to think about how that laugh was dangerously on its way of becoming his favorite sound.

“Stand By Me it is,” Louis searched for the movie. Before starting it up, he called in the order for pizza. Then returned his arm to the back of the couch. And Harry felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

Why was he like this all of a sudden? Just the other day he’d been thinking to himself how much he hated Louis. Or did he even hate Louis at all? Was it some other emotion he’d been feeling? Disguised as hate? The movie began and Harry relaxed, focusing more on the movie than the boy whose arm was so close to touching him. But it was so hard for Harry to stay focused on the movie. Impossibly hard.

Out of nowhere it seemed that these feelings had slammed into him. Funny how that worked sometimes. You had no interest in a person - then all they do is smile or laugh and you suddenly freeze and _oh shit,_ you’re done for. Yeah. Harry was completely and utterly done for.

* * *

 

The movie wrapped up and Liam and Zayn untangled from each other. Everyone was silent. Harry’s eyes flicked to Louis. And what he saw surprised him. Louis was just staring at the TV as the credits rolled. His mouth was partially open and his eyes were wide and red rimmed. Oh shit. Okay. Harry’s brain kicked into overdrive.

“You okay?” He ducked his head down to Louis’.

“He...he’s dead.”

“Yes, he died.”

“But...but...why? He was so full of life. He had a so much spark. And he was so good. Did he ever even know he was good? Do you think Chris ever knew he was good?”

“Of course,” Harry patted Louis’ shoulder.

Zayn and Liam raised eyebrows at each other and jostled Niall’s shoulder. The three slipped into the kitchen leaving Louis and Harry alone. Harry kept awkwardly patting Louis’ shoulder, not really sure what to do from there.

“He knew?” Louis asked again, “He knew that he was good?”

“Yes. Because people like Gordie told him so.”

“Okay then,” Louis nodded.

“You okay?” Harry asked again.

“Yeah. Just...what the hell, Haz? Why pick a movie that’s going to make me fucking cry for our first ever movie night?”

“I’m sorry! I had no idea. I saw it for the first time many, many years ago. I just...I didn’t think about it.”

“Fuck,” Louis threw his head back, “Never letting you pick a movie again. You suck at this.” His eyes flicked to Harry and Harry saw a small smile tug at the corner of his lips. Okay. So he wasn’t completely in trouble for picking Stand By Me.

“You two okay over there?” Liam finally called from in the kitchen.

“Uh, yeah,” Harry gave Louis’ shoulder one more pat - mostly for his own benefit - and hopped up to gather up the paper plates and pizza remnants, “All good.”

“Not bad for the first movie night,” Zayn added, holding up the trash can lid so Harry could dump the plates inside, “And excellent movie choice.”

“Says you,” Louis grumbled, setting the cups into the sink, “Hazza is never allowed to pick a movie again. I’ve decided.”

“It was a great movie,” Liam protested, “You’re just mad because it actually made you get emotional.”

“Shut up,” Louis kicked at a crumb on the floor.

“We should head home,” Zayn nudged Liam, “Niall, you want a ride?”

“Sure!”

They said goodbye and Louis shut the door behind them. Harry started doing the dishes and Louis came over and stood next to him, dish towel in hand.

“You wash, I’ll dry,” Louis offered.

“Okay,” Harry nodded, feeling a heat between his arm and Louis’. He wondered if Louis sensed it too. If he did, he was playing the part of oblivious very well. Maybe Harry was just reading too much into things. Maybe he was just having an off day anyway. These feelings were far too strong and far too random to be normal.

“I did like the movie,” Louis mumbled.

“What was that?” Harry asked over the running water, squirting soap onto a plate.

“I did like the movie,” Louis repeated, sounding as though saying so was a defeat.

“Well of course you did,” Harry nudged him with an elbow, “No one gets that emotional over a movie they hate. Unless you just hate it so much you start to cry from the sheer hatred.”

Louis laughed and Harry preened, “Next movie night though, we watch something funny. Like Blazing Saddles or something. I have a reputation to keep up with, Hazza. And crying at sad movies is not included in my package.”

A smirk crossed Harry’s face, “Your package, eh?”

Louis’ eyes wandered to his crotch and he smirked, “Thinking about my package, Haz?”

“You brought it up first,” Harry pointed at Louis with a soapy scrub brush.

“It’s a nice package,” Louis shrugged casually.

“God,” Harry winced. Okay, Harry. Dishes. Pay attention to dishes. Nothing else. Not Louis. And most certainly _not_ Louis’ package.

Louis laughed again - that deep chuckle that came from deep in his belly and he patted Harry’s shoulder, “I’m kidding! Jeez. Loosen up.”

“With you, it’s hard to tell,” Harry handed him a plate to dry.

“Welcome to the enigma that is Louis Tomlinson - is he being serious, or is he really just being an annoying little twat? I’ll let you in on a little secret.”

“What’s that?”

Louis smirked, “It’s almost always the later.”

“Shut up.”

Louis grinned and quoted from the movie, “I don’t shut up! I grow up! And when I look at you, I throw up! Blaaah!”

Harry snatched the dish towel off the counter and snapped him with it.


	8. Chapter 8

It’d been a week since movie night. Harry was frosting cupcakes and Niall had been allowed back - as long as he washed his hands until he counted to thirty and wore a hair net - to help add the sprinkles. He wasn’t the best help, but Harry enjoyed the company. Until he said this little gem -

“So, when did you fall for Louis?”

Harry almost dropped the piping bag. He paused for a moment and cleared his throat, hoping that his voice would be level when he did speak, “Uh...I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean, when did you fall for Louis? Of course you fell for him in Vegas, but that’s different. I’m talking about right now. You’ve been living with him for a week and already you’re smitten.”

“The hell, Niall? No. Just...no.”

“C’mon. I just want to know. Seems pretty fast, don’t it? But hey, if you like him…”

“Niall!” Harry glared daggers at him. Okay. This was not acceptable. He needed to do damage control like seven days ago. Harry spoke very carefully as he said, “I do not like Louis. He’s just someone I am forced to live with under court orders. He’s like a roommate who happens to be legally bound to me in marriage. There are no ‘feelings’ there or anything of that nature. Which reminds me, we do have marriage counseling after my shift.”

“Ooh,” Niall’s face lit, “Marriage counseling!”

“Shut it,” Harry went back to piping on the icing, “I don’t even know what makes you think I like him. He’s a...a complete jerk. He’s rude and he’s messy and he’s so loud. No one should ever be that loud ever. He swears like a sailor. He...he is arrogant and cocky and proud. He thinks he’s absolutely amazing. He…”

“Who are you trying to convince - me or you - that you don’t like him?” Niall shook some sprinkles onto a cupcake. Harry winced. “You know,” Niall continued, “In school when someone would have a crush on someone and you’d ask that person if they did or not? And they’d giggle and say ‘Noooo?’ Yeah. You’re _more_ obvious than that.”

“What?” Harry took slight offense to that, “Niall...there’s nothing between Louis and me.”

“Really,” Niall raised a brow and pointed to Harry’s neck. “And that’s just...what?”

_Louis stepped out of the bathroom with just a towel wrapped around his waist. Harry felt his breath hitch slightly. Okay. This was new. Normally they’d change in the bathroom after showers. Not just stroll about in nothing but a towel. He watched as Louis walked to the kitchen and then back to the bathroom and then over to grab a magazine from the coffee table, leaning with his ass practically in Harry’s face from his position on the couch. “_

_Really, Lou?” Harry asked._

_“Hmm?” Louis hummed, casually flipping through the pages of the magazine he’d chosen._

_“_ _Do you have to mill about in just a towel? Like, you do own clothes.”_

_Louis smirked, “Alright. I won’t ‘mill about’ in just a towel,” and with that, he turned around and dropped the towel to the ground. Harry let out a small gasp at the sight of a suddenly completely naked Louis. Louis kept himself covered with his hands and smirked, “Better?” He asked with complete innocence._

_“_ _Worse. A lot worse!”_ _Harry grabbed the towel off the ground - still damp - and rolled it, then snapped it against Louis’ bare hip. Louis let out a little yelp, then ran to the bedroom and locked his door._

_Harry had rolled his eyes and returned to reading his book when Louis came back out of the bedroom, this time in sweat pants. He had another towel in his hands._

_“You want war, Mr. Tomlinson?” Harry cringed. Lately Louis’d taken to calling him by his new legal name._

_“You’re going down, Mr. Tomlinson,” Harry grabbed the damp towel off the floor._

_T_ _hey ran around the flat for a bit, whipping each other with their towels until somehow they both wound up wrestling each other on the ground a few minutes later. Harry found himself under Louis, with his arms pinned above his head. How the tiny little chipmunk of a guy had managed that, Harry still had no clue. But Harry sure as shit wasn’t going to let him get away with it. So he wriggled his hands free and attacked Louis’ sides. He curled against Harry, the only place he could really go. Harry continued tickling Louis as Louis giggled and shouted profanities at Harry. With Louis weakened, Harry flipped them and was now the one straddling Louis._

_“You...play...dirty!” Louis pouted for a second before grabbing a handful of Harry’s hair in his fists, “But so can I,” he yanked Harry down to him by the hair and sucked a bruise against his pulse point. Harry gasped and let out a moan. He really hadn’t been able to help it. Louis had taken him by such surprise. And it didn’t help matters that he was now completely turned on._

_Louis unattached from Harry’s neck, smirked, and wriggled out from underneath him. He stood up, brushing himself off, and said, “Don’t play dirty if you can dish it out but not take it.”_

_And with that, Louis disappeared back to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him - leaving Harry breathless, red-lipped, and flushed-cheeked._  

“It’s just a bruise, Niall,” Harry insisted, placing the cupcakes into the glass display, “It means nothing.”

“Is it a hickey? Just tell me. It’s a hickey isn’t it. What the fuck do you two do when the three of us aren’t there to keep an eye on you?”

Whip each other with towels, tickle fights, wrestling, and apparently giving each other hickies. Yeah, none of those things were anywhere near “just friends” and certainly not the “just roommates” motif Harry had been trying to spin.

“Nothing,” Harry sighed, arranging the cupcakes, “Really. It’s all quite dull really.”

“So...no more bantering? No more wanting to kill each other? Just...dull. Nothing.” Niall wasn't buying what Harry was trying to sell.

Harry rolled his eyes and pulled a batch of cookies from the oven, “Help me frost these,” Harry instructed, “And really, Niall. There is nothing going on between Louis and me.”

“I would believe you, but you have a fucking hickey on your neck.” Harry sighed. If Louis was going to keep this up, he was going to have to invest in turtlenecks.


	9. Drastic Measures

“So...Niall thinks that there’s something going on between us.”

Okay. Probably not the brightest thing to say in a moving vehicle that Louis Tomlinson was currently navigating. He slammed on the breaks, almost getting them rear ended. Harry flew forward, gripping his hands onto the dash.

“Jesus, Lou! Are you trying to get us killed! Drive!”

Someone a few cars back honked. Louis ran an exasperated hand through his hair before pressing on the accelerator. Maybe Harry could have been a bit more tactful, but Louis’ reaction...well, that’d been something.

“What do you mean Niall thinks there's something going on between us?” Louis’ knuckles were ghost-white from gripping the steering wheel.

Harry’s jaw clenched ever-so-slightly. Okay. Store this reaction away in the “things that probably aren’t normal between Louis and me” file. Which was growing rapidly by the minute so it seemed. “He just asked me today if there was something going on between us,” Harry tried to sound as casual as possible, “He saw my neck.”

“Fuck.”

“Well I told him it was nothing.”

“It’s not nothing!” Louis’ neck snapped around and he was glaring at Harry as if Harry had given himself the hickey.

“Jesus, Lou. You’re the one that did that. Not me. I don’t even think it’s physically possible for me to give myself a hickey on my neck.”

“It’s _not_ a hickey,” Louis muttered, turning his attention back to the road.

“Okay then,” Harry nodded slowly, “Not a hickey.”

“No. Did you want it to be or something?”

“No,” Harry’s brain went swimmy, “I mean, we’re just two people who are uh...bound together legally through marriage for the next few months. And we’re just trying to get through that and uh...get our money, right?” Harry knew that made him sound like a dick, but honestly he had no idea how to sound or react after Louis’ outburst.

“Right,” Louis’ voice was clipped, “Just gotta get through the next few months. Then we can get our divorce and our money and be on our way.”

“Exactly.” Harry didn’t know why when Louis’ repeated it that it sounded miserable. And that he sounded slightly miserable as well.

Harry picked at his bottom lip, trying not to think too hard about things. Louis was just frustrated that Niall had thought something was going on between them. But why would that frustrate him so much? Why not just deny it instead of getting so defensive?

When they got to the marriage counselor's office, Louis parked the car along the street and slammed his door shut with his hip. “Let’s just get this over with.”

* * *

“So, tell me about your week,” the counselor started. Harry glanced around her office. It was small. And way too overly designed to look casual and like a living room. He and Louis were sitting on a red leather couch. It was over stuffed to the point of being uncomfortable. The strong smell of vanilla candles were giving him a headache. He flashed a glance to Louis who was chewing a thumb nail and looking royally pissed.

“Um, well Doctor Samuels,” Harry shot Louis another glance. He was rolling his eyes. Harry continued, “Not much to tell. I’ve moved in with Louis as per the court orders. We uh...had a movie night with our friends.”

“Oh fantastic! So you’re becoming close?”

Louis muttered something and Harry shot him a look. The hell was his problem?

“Sort of...yeah,” Harry nodded, “My best friend sort of adopted Louis’ best friends. So we’re going to try to do more stuff just the four of us.”

“I think that’s great that you’ve found friendship together. What about your relationship? Where do you stand as far as relationships go?”

_Now_ Louis chose to speak up, “Honestly, we’re just trying to get this over with so we can get our money and be done with each other.”

Ouch. Harry hadn’t been that harsh in the car when he’d said something similar, had he? If so, he hadn’t meant to come across that way. That was...that was hurtful. He picked at a hangnail and tried not to look towards Louis.

“Well, at least you’re honest,” Doctor Samuels wrote something on a yellow legal pad, “So, you don’t think you two will decide to remain together once the three weeks are up? The judge needs to see you’ve been making an effort here.”

“We’re making an effort to be as civil as possible and work through these next few months,” Louis offered, “But no. I think once the three months are up, we’ll go through with that divorce and be on our separate ways.”

Ow. Ow. Ow.

“What first attracted you to each other? Tell me about that.”

“Alcohol. So much alcohol.” Jesus, Lou. Be an asshole more why don’t you.

“Okay…” Doctor Samuels scribbled on her legal pad again, “So you don’t think any of those feelings from that night will resurface in the course of the next few months?”

“Doubtful.”

“We’re going to keep an open mind,” Harry interjected.

“Alright,” Doctor Samuels cleared her throat, “I don’t think you understand how this is supposed to work. While I appreciate your honesty, you’re supposed to be here to prove to the judge you genuinely want to put in a strong effort into this marriage. You’re not even giving it a chance. You are supposed to at least try here, Louis. According to all the legal stuff, you’re at least supposed to show me you’re putting in some sort of effort. And I have to report back to the judge. Now then, if you don’t want to put in the effort, you will have to stay together even longer.”

“Can he even do that?” Harry’s brow furrowed.

Doctor Samuels just shrugged, “Also, the only way out is if one person were to forfeit. Everything. If the other person says they are willing to walk away without taking one cent of the jackpot, etc. then that’s the only way out other than genuinely putting in an effort.”

Louis’ widened, “So, we either put in an effort, or one of us can forfeit the money - then we can get divorced and the one who doesn’t forfeit can get the whole amount?”

“Yes.”

“Interesting,” Louis was rubbing his chin and Harry felt nauseous.

“Well that’s not going to even be an issue,” Harry said in his sweetest voice possible, “Because neither of us will be forfeiting.”

Louis paused a beat before adding, “No. Of course not.”

“Anyway,” Doctor Samuel’s cleared her throat, sensing the sudden change of tension in the room, “Let’s work on some trust exercises.”

“Trust exercises,” Louis scoffed, “Fucking brilliant.”

“Lou, why are you acting like a total asshat today?” Harry asked. Doctor Samuel’s opened her mouth to say something, but instead just leaned back in her chair.

“Well I don’t know Harry, maybe because you told me that you just wanted to get this over with and get your money.”

“Well you agreed with me!”

“Whatever. I should never have made myself a third wheel on Zayn and Liam’s trip. I should have never even fucking met you.”

“Wow,” Harry nodded, “Okay. And you think I’m happy about this situation? The first time I’ve ever gotten that plastered before, and I wind up hitched to you!”

“Well if you could handle your liquor like a real man…”

“You puked at the altar!”

“Oh, so you do remember some of that night.”

“Parts,” Harry fumed, “Still don’t remember anything after that. Just waking up in bed. So the sex must have been uneventful.”

“Sex?” Louis laughed a cold laugh, “We didn’t have sex!”

“What?” Harry’s brows furrowed.

“You passed out. You were falling over in the elevator. I carried you and put you to bed. I may be an ass, but I’m not going to fuck someone whose consciousness is questionable.”

“Oh,” Harry looked down at his hands in his lap.

So Louis wasn’t a total jerk. He knew that. But still that didn’t mean it changed anything. Louis’d made it very clear that he just wanted to get these next few months over with, get his money, and move on with his life. A life without Harry in it. And Harry didn’t even know why he was so upset. Hadn’t he wanted that same thing?

And then somewhere in the mean little part of his mind that sometimes spilled out, he said, “So you’re fine with drunk-marrying guys, but you aren’t okay with drunk-fucking them?”

Louis shrugged, scrunching his face, “You were too passed out to be able to give me anything.”

“That’s beautiful,” Harry shook his head, his blood boiling now.

* * *

Louis rolled his eyes and crossed his legs. He knew he was being a royal jackass. But _god_ , he was on a role and wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. He’d fucked up in Vegas. He knew that. Who the fuck gets drunk-married anyway? But here he was, at marriage counseling, with his husband. _Husband._ Louis felt sick.

It had been stupid to even think for a second that maybe he and Harry could actually work on their marriage. It’d been so stupid to think that what they had even was a marriage. All they’d been doing was playing house and waiting out to get their money. None of it had been real. It was all just pretend. The movie night. The flirting. That fucking obvious hickey on Harry’s neck… But Harry had blatantly said that they were just two people bound together legally and waiting out to get their money. Harry had said that. So any chances Louis had thought of them maybe being something more than just that had been thrown out the window. And he had actually started to fall for his husband. God. Good choices just weren’t a thing this month, apparently.

And what was that Doctor Samuels had said about forfeiting? Maybe...just maybe...he could get Harry to forfeit. Then he could claim the total of their earnings. He could get in a lot of trouble with $500,000. Think of all the things he could buy. Hell, give him about a week and Harry would just be a vague memory in the back of his mind, if even that. Seemed like good incentive.

“What can I say?” Louis shrugged, “I’m a romantic.”

“Yeah. Can’t even remember the names of your hookups, just how many times you make the come.”

Louis’ jaw set ever-so-slightly. Why was Harry so caught up on that? The guy’s name had been Lucas. It’d taken Louis a moment to remember, but he did. Lucas. And Lucas had daddy issues and a birthmark on his left asscheek. See, Louis remembered.

But that didn’t stop him from smirking and shrugging as he said, “Priorities.”

“God, you’re foul!”

“Thank you.”

“Not a compliment.” Louis just shrugged again.

Okay, so it was a little fun to get a rile out of Harry. And fighting was intense with them. And all Louis really wanted was _something_ intense with Harry. If he had to settle for fighting, so be it. But he wasn’t going to hold anything back. And why should he? Holding his tongue had never been something Louis’d learned.

“You’re the one sporting that hickey like it’s a fucking prize.”

“You said it wasn’t a hickey!” Harry protested.

“Do you need fucking diagrams and colored pictures? It’s a fucking hickey. And you fucking moaned when I gave it to you. Don’t think I forgot about that.”

He hadn’t. He’d pretty much jumped off Harry at that point and had disappeared into his bedroom for the remainder of the day thanks to the effect that moan had had on him.

“Okay,” Doctor Samuels tried to interject. But she'd long lost control of their meeting.

“Pure reflex,” Harry replied coolly.

“Please. Ever since I told you about Lucas, you’ve been wondering what it’d be like if I fucked you.” Yeah.  Tact wasn't a word in Louis' vocabulary. 

“Jesus,” Harry hissed.

“Alright!” Doctor Samuel’s clapped her hands together, “I didn’t want to do this. But unfortunately, I think it’s obvious you two have left me no choice. I’m going to have to use the most drastic of exercises for the two of you. Clearly there’s a lot of unresolved tension and feelings there between you.”

Shit. What did that even mean? Louis’ eyes drifted to Harry who looked just as worried as Louis’ felt.

“Really,” Doctor Samuel’s sighed, but Louis detected the slightly smile in her voice, “You’ve left me no choice here…”


	10. Untitled

Louis Tomlinson had a thing about bondage. There was something thrilling about tying someone up to his rot iron headboard, and being tied up himself depending on his mood. Just the thought of handcuffs had an effect on him. And sure, there’d been moments when he’d pictured Harry in handcuffs. Or Harry on top of him while he was the one tied to the bed. But this...this was not exactly what he had in mind.

“This is bullshit,” Harry waved his left wrist in the air, “I have to go to work! How are we supposed to function like this for a whole week.”

“It’s just through the weekend,” Doctor Samuels smiled, “On Monday you can come in and I’ll unlock them. You can survive three days.”

Louis was doubtful. Maybe three minutes. Certainly not three hours. And definitely not three days. How the fuck was he supposed to do anything with Harry chained to his wrist. Louis shook his right wrist sharply and Harry let out a little yelp.

“That hurts, stop it!”

“Oh, does it?” Louis yanked his wrist harder, pulling Harry with his force.

“You’re free to leave now,” Doctor Samules was actually grinning, “I suggest you call someone for a ride.”

“Sure,” Louis stood abruptly from the couch and yanked Harry with him.

“Ow! Lou! Lou! Slow down!” Louis marched outside to the parking lot. He dug his cellphone from his pocket with his free hand. Okay. He had to call someone. There was no way he could drive with Harry attached to him. But he knew Liam and Zayn would have a fucking field day if they saw them literally handcuffed together. God, they’d never let Louis live it down. This was a fucking nightmare and it was only getting worse by the minute.

“I’m calling Niall,” Harry was digging his own phone from his pocket.

“Why? So that little shit can laugh at us for the next century?”

“And like Liam and Zayn wouldn’t get a good chuckle out of this too? We might as well just suck it up and call. We can’t just stand out here all day. And people are staring.”

They were quite a sight. Louis sighed and dialled Liam. Liam was pretty reasonable. Whenever Louis was being an immature little prick, Liam always kept him in check. Liam would be understanding. Liam would be nice about this. He wouldn’t make fun of their situation. Liam would be an adult about things.

“Oh this is fucking great!” Liam grabbed his cellphone from his pocket and snapped a picture.

Louis grimaced. Oh how _wrong_ he’d been. He made a mental note to kill Liam once the weekend was up. _Of course_ bloody Liam would show up Zayn and Niall. And _of course_ the three of them were doubled over with laughter at the sight of Louis and Harry. This was not nearly as amusing to them as it apparently was to their friends. Louis rolled his eyes and waited for his friends to regain some composure.

“Are you quite finished?” He asked impatiently.

“This is fucking great!” Zayn cackled, falling into Niall from laughing so hard.

“Liam, send me those pictures,” Niall wiped a tear from his eye with his knuckle, “I need documented proof of this moment.”

“Oh my god,” Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. “Can you guys just help us? One of you drive Louis’ car and take us home.  Everyone that's walking by is staring at us."

"Just one more minute," Liam cackled.

"Liam, fucking drive us home right fucking now!" Louis had had enough. Enough of everything.

"He's just pissy because he's handcuffed to a person and not a bed," Zayn said out of nowhere and Louis' jaw fell lax.  Then he locked in promptly into place and glared daggers at Zayn.  Okay.  Zayn was officially a dead man.  

"Enjoy living the next few days," Louis stepped forward to Zayn, dragging Harry along, "Because come Monday, I am going to kill you."

Zayn just laughed.  Louis glared daggers again.  This was just bloody terrific.  Absolutely fantastic!  Fucking beautiful!  "I'm glad you're having a good chuckle over there, mate," Louis sneered, "Glad someone thinks this is fucking hysterical!"

"You and Harry are the only two who aren't grasping the hilarity of the situation," Niall shrugged.

Louis bit his lower lip, hard.  This was a disaster.  A complete and utter nightmare.  What else was the universe going to throw at him next? 

"Alright, alright," Liam finally held up a hand, "Let's take them home."

Liam drove Louis' car and Zayn drove Liam and Niall to the flat following behind.  Louis and Harry were shoved in the cramped backseat.  Harry's brow was deeply furrowed and Louis tried to push all thoughts of how attractive Harry looked when he was angry or serious or both from his mind.  A little difficult to do so when you're fucking handcuffed together.  Which was still unbelievable to him.  How did Doctor Samuels expect them to function - use the bathroom, sleep, have any privacy?  This was some sort of sick joke.  And Louis was pissed.  

Then an evil little thought entered his mind.  Maybe he could twist this to his advantage.  With Harry actually attached to him, he could do a lot to make Harry's life miserable these next three days.  Maybe he could force Harry to forfeit.  He could be the biggest twat in the world and drive Harry completely mad until he had no other choice but to leave Louis and the jackpot winnings.  And then Louis could get started on spending his money on necessities - suits, cars, and boys.  All things that'd help take his mind off Harry.  Yup.  Louis liked that plan the more he thought of it.

Harry had no idea what he was in for.  And Louis couldn't help but smirk.

When Liam pulled into the parking garage of the complex, he opened the backseat door and Louis yanked Harry out.  It wasn't that he was necessarily stronger than Harry.  Because as much as he hated it, he knew he wasn't.  It was just that he had the ability to take Harry by surprise.  Yank him around totally unexpectedly and Harry could almost fall over because of it.  Louis was going to use that as much to his advantage as possible.  He yanked again and Harry almost tripped out of the backseat.

"You could be a little gentler," Harry winced as they headed inside.  He was trying to cradle his cuffed wrist in his free hand.

"Darling, I'm never gentle.  Unless you employ your safe word.  Which you haven't told me, by the way.   So being gentle isn't going to happen."

"God," Liam pinched his brow, "Okay. Here we are," he paused at their flat and unlocked the front door, "Can you two try not to kill each other these next few days."

"No promises," Harry said, his voice biting.  And Louis told the goosebumps working their way on his skin to go fuck off.

Niall and Zayn came up a few minutes later.  Harry and Louis were standing in the middle of the living room, not sure really what to do or where to go.  Neither of them was used to having the other just attached at the hip.  And they could barely walk.  Nothing they did was in sync.  Louis wanted to go one way.  Harry wanted to go the other.  Harry's strides were much longer.  Louis' were faster little marches.  Nothing was in tandem.

"Will you two be okay for the weekend?" Niall asked, growing concerned.

"We can manage."

"Okay.  Well...if you need any help with anything, just call one of us," Niall offered, "We'd be happy to come over and help."

"And see more of you two handcuffed," Zayn giggled, "Because this is fucking priceless."

"Out!  Now!" Louis pointed to the door.

"Alright, alright," Liam held up his hands, "We're taking off.  You two...behave."

Once the front door shut, Harry sat down on the couch, yanking Louis down with him.  Something Louis didn't much appreciate.  

"We need to try to work at being more of a team," Harry began, and Louis made a puking sound.  Real mature.  But he didn't care at this point.  Harry didn't even notice, or if he did, he didn't react, "We have to work at being more in sync.  There's no way we can survive the whole weekend by yanking each other around like this."

"Never thought handcuffs could ever be ruined for me," Louis mused, picking at the metal on his wrist, "One of the best sex toys invented and it's used for my downfall."

"Lord," Harry threw his head back and Louis smirked as Harry said, "Let's not talk about your bedroom activities."

"But my bedroom actives are so fun!" Louis' smirk broke out into a grin. "Picture it.  You handcuffed to my bed.  Me on top of you straddling your hips.  Edging you just to the brink of..." 

"Jesus!" Harry jumped up from the couch, causing Louis to fall over.  He couldn't help but smirk.  Okay, so he had half been sharing a fantasy of his since Harry'd moved in; and half being an annoying little twat trying to get a rise from Harry.  It'd worked.

"Fuck!" Harry hissed again and Louis raised a bemused eyebrow.  This was entertaining.  "Keep it PG-13, alright."

"Darling, nothing I've ever done or said has been PG-13," Louis smirked.

"I don't doubt that," Harry sighed, falling back against the couch. Okay, so that'd gotten a nice little reaction from Harry.  But Louis was going to have to step up his game if he wanted to force Harry to forfeit.  Oh, he was going to have fun with this!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat or the songs mentioned in the chapter.

"I'm bored," he announced, grabbing his phone off the counter. They'd just finished dinner - PB&J sandwiches, something that they'd figured would be easiest to make and serve with the other literally attached to them.

"Good for you.  Want a cookie?"

"I'm going to place a call. Going to invite someone over. I'd ask if that's okay, but I won't," Louis scrolled through his phone until he clicked on a folder marked LBB. Harry rolled his eyes. Of course Louis would have a Little Black Book folder for his contacts. 

"Lou, what are you going to do?" Harry asked apprehensively. 

"Just have someone over," Louis shrugged casually, "Don't worry. No sex stuff. Not like I'd want you present for that anyway.  Just a make-out session.  I can call someone for you too if you think you might be bored sitting there while I go at it with...hmm...Marc."

"You're not serious."

"Of course I am.  I'm bored. I need to entertain myself some how."

"How will we explain this?" Harry raised his wrist.

"They're booty calls, Haz. They won't give a shit. I'm calling. Be quiet," Louis pressed the contact info for Marc. He didn't even remember what Marc looked like really. But he thought the spelling was amusing, "Marc. Louis. We met at...yeah. Okay I have a proposition. Come over for a make-out session? Fair warning, no sex stuff tonight. I know, disappointing. Be over here in fifteen? Great," Louis ended the call and grinned to Harry as if he was completely satisfied with himself, and he was, "So, do you want me to call someone for you? You may be bored. Wouldn't want that."

"I don't make out with strangers."

"Right," Louis nodded once, "You just marry them."

That seemed to do the trick, because Harry said, "Fine. Call someone."

* * *

 

When Marc and Drew arrived, Harry was actually kind of impressed. He thought Louis might call someone as a joke, but Drew was quite handsome. He was tall - taller than Louis but shorter than Harry. And his eyes were blue. Not the bluey-greeney-blue like Louis' but they were still pretty. And surprisingly enough, neither asked about the handcuffs. Louis moved them to the couch. Louis hadn't really wanted to do anything with Marc, but he needed to do something to take his mind off the certain thoughts he was having towards Harry. Thoughts he most certainly was not allowed to be having.

Harry was nervous. He most certainly was not thrilled with this plan of Louis'.  But then he heard Louis' moan into a kiss with Marc. And Harry was done for.  He grabbed Drew by the hair and pulled him close.  And kissed him desperately. Needing this to remedy any thoughts he was having towards Louis.  Thoughts he most certainly was not allowed to be having.

Louis popped open one eye.  Marc's were still closed in the kiss. He peered around Marc's head to see the back of Harry's head. His hands were desperately running through Drew's hair. Fuck that. Louis sucked Marc's lip making him cry out.

"Jesus, Lou," Marc cried. Louis just raised his eyebrows as if to say - "well, what did you expect?"

Louis knew this was fucked up on multiple levels. Making out with someone just to get his thoughts off of making out with Harry. And doing other things with Harry. But these guys didn't care at least. They were booty calls. They were just happy to be there. And Louis tried to tell himself that this was perfectly fine. Harry was enjoying himself. Louis was trying to enjoy himself too. And Marc and Drew were most certainly enjoying themselves. What was wrong with this? Everyone won, right? Or at least that's what Louis was trying to tell himself. He wasn't particularly feeling much like a winner at the moment.

"Harry!" Drew moaned into the kiss.

"Sorry!" Harry was quick to break apart. Louis ran a hand through Marc's hair, keeping his eyes on Harry. Did Harry just really apologize for biting Drew's lip? Louis rolled his eyes. He would.  Of course he would.

"No, do it again," Drew instructed.

Louis' brow furrowed. Yeah. Everyone was winning. Everyone but him apparently. He hadn't thought this idea through.

"Mmm, Harry. So fuckin' hot," Drew moaned.

Fuck this. 

"Alright!" Louis cleared his throat, completely fucking done with all of it, "Drew, Marc. Time to go."

"But..." Harry protested, not really sure what to say. He wanted to be done with this. But Drew was sort of helping taking his minds off Louis.  Sort of.  It was better than nothing at least.

"Louis," Marc pouted.

"My home, my rules," Louis stood from the couch, yanking Harry up with him.

"Lou..." Harry glared daggers at him. 

"Out," Louis said, and the two begrudgingly stood up from the couch.  Drew mouthed to Harry to call him. Louis rolled his eyes and dragged Harry over to close the door behind them after they left.

"Well that was...interesting," Harry raised an eyebrow, "Why invite them if you were just going to throw them out."

"Got what I need," Louis shrugged, trying to sound cold. 

"Really? Is that why you had your eyes on the back of my head the whole time."

Well shit. Why was this blowing up in his face? Louis sighed. Just call him "Captain of Shit Decisions." Because right now, he was sailing a whole fucking boatful of them. 

"I'm going to get a shower," Louis said, avoiding the question, "You can stand outside the shower curtain. And eyes to yourself."

Harry sighed, thinking to himself - like you kept yours to yourself ten minutes ago?

This was one huge mess, and things were just getting messier by the minute. But Harry was way past the point of no return. He found himself a few minutes later standing outside the shower curtain as Louis showered. He was obnoxiously singing Sexyback at the top of his lungs. Harry leaned against the wall, rolling his head back. This was a nightmare. Had to be. Stuff just doesn't happen like this in real life, does it? If he got out of this alive, he'd have to write a book. It'd sell millions.

Louis bobbed his head to the music playing in his mind. Okay. No more making out with booty calls. Or at least no more having Harry make out with booty calls. Nope. He was done with that. He needed to step up his game though to get Harry to forfeit. He was going to have turn up the obnoxiousness to a whole other level. Which excited him. He prided himself on what a little shit he could be at times. His whole life had been preparing for these moments. And he was going to completely drive Harry wild until he'd finally cave. He wet his lips, running shampoo through his hair. Everything he'd ever done to Liam and Zayn was just practice for this. These were the big leagues now.

He was going to make the next few days hell for Harry.  Starting as soon as he finished his shampoo... 

* * *

 

"My side of the bed," Louis instructed, "Your side. You are not to cross over to my side. You are not to even so much as think of crossing over to my side."

"I wouldn't," Harry crawled under the covers.

"Perfect. I like to stay up for awhile on my phone."

"That's fine," Harry shrugged, resting his head back against the pillow. He was exhausted from the day and was just looking forward to getting a good night's rest. In Louis' bed. Shit. Harry stiffened at the thought.

"Good," Louis grabbed his phone off the nightstand. He played Tiny Tower on mute until Harry's eyes closed and his breathing slowed.  Then Louis selected Need for Speed and turned the volume up all the way.

"Louis!" Harry groaned, "Do you have to have the volume up all the way?"

"Yes."

Harry let out a growl and Louis tried not to think how hot that sounded.

Louis smirked, singing as he played, "They see me rollin', they hatin', patrollin', tryin' to catch me riding dirty!" 

"Lou," Harry glared daggers at him. Of course he was going to be an obnoxious little shit. As if Harry had expected anything different from him.

"Hmm?" Louis hummed innocently. 

"Nothing," Harry gave up. Louis wasn't going to turn down the volume, or stop singing.  It was useless. But if he wanted to play like this, Harry needed to step it up. Which was difficult. Being obnoxious and a little shit weren't exactly Harry's forte like they were Louis'.  He needed to think of something though to regain the upper hand here. 

"Fine then," Harry reached for his own phone, "If you're going to play your game. I'm going to watch a movie."

"Okay," Louis bit his lower lip. Harry was trying to out-obnoxious him. Well good luck with that, darling. I've got this in the fucking bag.

Harry bit his lip, thinking up the most annoying movie he could think of. Then it dawned on him. He opened up YouTube and searched for it. Ah yes. This would do the trick.

He nestled into the pillow a bit more and pressed play. All he had to do now was wait.

Suddenly music started. Louis' brow furrowed.

"Some folks dream of the wonders they'll do, before their time on this planet is through..."

"Oh fuck that!" Louis glared daggers at Harry, "You're not watching that shit!"

"Oh, you know Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat?"

"Only because it has the most obnoxious songs ever. I did drama in high school. We did that play my sophomore year."

"Aw, and who were you?"

"Potiphar."

"Ha!" Harry let out a loud laugh that was a little too loud.

"Far far away...someone was weeping...but the world was sleeping...any dream will do," Donny Osmond started singing and Louis let out an exasperated groan.

"You do realize it wasn't until I was about twenty-three that I finally - _finally_ \- got those songs out of my head, right?  You try hearing nothing but these songs for all of spring semester when you're fifteen. I will stab myself in the ears if you don't shut that off."

"Nope. I'm enjoying this," Harry smirked. He was quite certain he'd won this round. Louis was practically fuming. See, I can be obnoxious too if I try.

"Way way back many centuries ago, not long after the bible began..."

"I will murder you."

"JACOB! JACOB AND SONS!" Harry sang along.

"I will suffocate you."

"JACOB! JACOB AND SONS!"

"Dead. You're dead."

"JACOB! JACOB AND SONS!" Harry was now dancing along and singing out the names of Jacob's sons. Which Louis had memorized from his sophomore year. He had all these songs memorized. And after years, he'd finally gotten the songs out of his head. They no longer creeped in while he was grocery shopping, or while driving in the car. He'd gone quite awhile without humming along to certain songs. And now this.  It'd take him another decade practically to get the songs out of his head. No thanks to Harry. Maybe Louis had underestimated him.

"But where they had really missed the boat is...we're really great guys but no one seems to notice," Harry was now bobbing his head along and grinning happily.

Louis growled. He wondered how many years someone would serve in prison for smothering someone with a pillow. If the jury knew what Harry'd done to push him to that, they'd probably take pity on him. 

"Such a dazzling coat of many colors. How he loved his coat of many colors!"

"I hate you," Louis spat out.

"It was red and yellow and green and brown and blue! Don't really care," Harry was trying not laugh and failing miserably. And Louis tried not to find that smile and soft giggle adorable. He tried to take his thoughts from kissing the dimple on Harry's cheek back to smothering him with a pillow. Oh yes, a jury would certainly pity him.

"It was red and yellow and green and brown and scarlet and black and okra and peach and ruby and olive and..."

"That's it!" Louis reached around Harry to try to grab the phone from his hand.  Harry only turned the volume up and was giggling as Louis tried to wrestle it from his hand.  And he mentally cursed Harry for being so much bigger and stronger than him. He could barely reach around and Harry was now holding the phone with his ginormous arm just out of Louis' reach.

Louis threw his head back against his pillow, "You win this round, Mr. Tomlinson," Louis scoffed, "But just know that the gloves are officially off. You're in trouble now."

A smirk played on Harry's face, deepening that damn dimple, "Do your worst, Mr. Tomlinson." 

 


	12. Chapter 12

Louis was done for. He woke up the next morning to Harry snoring softly. The soft brown curls framed his face, and his long lashes rested perfectly on his cheeks. Louis inhaled sharply. He needed to get Harry to forfeit as soon as possible - he needed Harry Styles Tomlinson out of his life because things were getting dangerous.

Louis was falling harder and faster by the moment. And Harry had made it exceptionally clear that he and Louis were nothing more than strangers bound by marriage. He'd also been the one to say that he wanted to just get his money and forget all about this marriage mess they'd gotten themselves into. He clearly didn't feel the same way for Louis that Louis felt for him. Which Louis should be used to by now. That happened more often than not for him. But this was different. He was completely crazy for Harry Styles. And Harry didn't feel the same. He needed to get Harry out of his life. And he needed to be the one to collect the total of the jackpot. Because $500,000 was probably the only thing that could make him forget Harry Styles. Or at least make it more possible to do so. He could travel. He could buy expensive things. He could meet exotic people. And in time, and enough traveling, expensive treats, and exotic men, Louis would forget all about this.

But Harry was stirring slightly and Louis found himself reaching out and brushing a curl from Harry's forehead. This was a disaster. An absolute disaster. He wasn't helping himself by doing things like that. Louis brought his hand back down to side. Okay, Lou. Just focus on the task at hand - getting Harry to give up. Last night was impressive. Hard to beat annoying musicals. But you've got this. Just be obnoxious. Be a little shit.

But for some reason, Louis was finding that difficult. He should be lapping this up, jumping at the chance to pull out all the stops. But he found himself at a pause. He didn't want to annoy Harry. He wanted to jump him and kiss him and hear him moan again like when he'd given him that hickey.

Oh Louis was in trouble now.

Shit. 

He was not particularly loving residence around Harry's little finger.

Harry stirred again.  Annoying wasn't working. The only thing left was mean. And Louis could be really mean if he tried. He didn't particularly enjoy it, but he could be ruthless if he wanted to be - if he needed to be.

He brushed another strand of Harry from Harry's face and whispered, "I'm sorry for this, Haz. Really."

Louis decided to let Harry rest until he finally woke up on his own. He played Tiny Tower on his phone - quietly, he wanted to point out - to pass the time. When Harry did finally stir himself awake, he looked at Louis and smiled sleepily. Damn it. This was going to be harder than Louis thought. A lot harder than he'd thought. Shit.

"Hi," Harry's voice was heavy with sleep and sweet. So sweet. And he was looking at Louis as he if was completely in love with him. Why? You're the one who said this was just an legal arrangement. You're the one who said we just needed to suck it up and get through this. Louis set his jaw. He tried to order his eyes to look anywhere but Harry's, but they weren't listening.

"Hi," Louis' fought his own smile. Setting his jaw even harder until it hurt.

"You're pretty in the morning."

Fuck.  Where the fuck had that come from?  Louis' eyes widened and Harry's cheeks reddened slightly. 

"Sorry," he said, "I wasn't thinking.  I just sort of...said that.  I'm sorry."

Louis felt his stomach tighten.  Be mean, Tomlinson.  Be mean.  You can do this. You have to break him. Make him want to forfeit. Then you can go on with your life pretending you were never in love with Harry Styles.  Pretend your life was like it was before you even stepped on that bloody plane and made an ass of yourself, earning his attention. 

"Look," Louis took a sharp breath, "I think we just need to get through this weekend with as little snags as possible. We have to be attached together. Just like we have to be attached in this joke of a marriage. But that doesn't mean we have to be nice or friendly to each other. And it certainly doesn't mean you can say stuff like that.  We have to have boundaries. I don't know what you think we are, Mr. Tomlinson. But this is just an arrangement. You're a stranger to me. And this is a job. At the end of these three months, I can collect my money and be on my way. And you too."

Harry's eyes darted back and forth as if he were trying to read Louis.  This was definitely a lot harder than Louis had suspected it'd be.  He was definitely in a lot deeper than he'd suspected too. 

"An arrangement," Harry repeated, his voice soft and low. And fuck, if he started to cry Louis was just going to be done for.  Don't fucking cry, Haz.  Don't you dare.

"Yup," Louis popped the 'p.'  "Just an arrangement.  We were fucking stupid in Vegas. I don't know what I'd even been thinking.  That's what I get for thinking with my dick."

"What...what do you mean?"

Louis inhaled sharply. Just do it. Just do it and get it over with.  Like a band-aid. Just rip it off. "That's why I paid attention to you in the first place," Louis inhaled again, "I thought you'd be an easy lay."

There. You did it.  Good job. You needed to.  For your own sanity. You needed to put some distance between you and Harry. You needed to hurt him a little. It was unavoidable. 

"Is...is that true?" Harry asked, and damn him. His voice cracked slightly.

Louis shrugged, "What can I say? I was horny and you were there. Thought I'd just bed you. Should have just bedded you. Instead, we get fucking hitched. What an absolute joke."

Harry's cheeks were redder than Louis'd ever seen them. Stop.  Stop it now. You've done it already. You've hurt him. You can stop now. Please fucking stop.

"You were just so pathetic sitting there..." what the fuck are you doing, Tomlinson? Stop it.  You've already hurt him.  You can stop now.  Please just stop.  "...thinking about your ex.  God, you're so fucking annoying. No wonder he dumped you."

Jesus fucking Christ are you fucking finished?

Harry just nodded very slowly and Louis could feel the pulse pounding in his ears. "Okay then," Harry nodded again, "Well, let's get up then.  And let's just get through this weekend as best as we can."

"Harry..." Louis felt like complete garbage. He hated how he was sometimes - how once he got started up, there was no stopping.

And what was he going to do about it now? Apologize? And then what? Wind back up where he was earlier? No. He needed to break Harry's heart to save his own. Besides, it wasn't like it'd actually break Harry's heart, right? Damn it, why did he look so fucking broken?

"No, I get it," Harry nodded and he and Louis shifted off the bed, "I was stupid. I married someone who should have just been a one night stand, if even that. You're right. Let's just...get through this. The sooner we get through this, the sooner we can get our money, our divorce, and move on.  The sooner we can forget each other."

Louis inhaled sharply.  God he hated himself. He absolutely hated himself.

"Shouldn't be too hard, right?" Harry said with a dry laugh, "I mean, we're already nothing to each other, right?"

Louis nodded once, "Right."

Lies. All lies. Everything out of your mouth today has been a fucking lie. Damn it Tomlinson.

"Okay then," Harry nodded again and he and Louis walked out to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. 

Louis could barely breathe the tension between them was as thick as fog at this point. Well, at least he'd done it. He'd hurt Harry. A few more digs and maybe he could get Harry to finally forfeit. And then he could start the process of trying to forget him.

Yeah right. Louis scoffed at himself. Like that'd be possible. 


	13. Friends

They kept as much distance as they could from each other in spite of being handcuffed. When one of them had to use the toilet, the other went behind the shower curtain with headphones on. When one of them wanted to walk to another room, the other one would go along but wouldn't say anything. They hadn't really said anything since Louis' outburst in the bedroom that morning. And the tension was insane.

Louis felt like shit. His head was pounding and he felt like he was going to pass out at any moment. He shouldn't have said those things to Harry. He'd wanted to break him, for what reason? Other than not wanting to get broken himself. Louis felt like the most selfish person on the planet. He kept replaying all the hurtful things he'd said to Harry that morning, and how the look on Harry's face had morphed from innocence, to pain, to hatred. Louis didn't even want to think about Harry hating him. If he hated him, Louis could never forgive himself. It hadn't been worth it. Louis should have just dealt with his feelings like a mature adult. He should never have acted like that. He should never have said those things. And if he could rewind and take them all back, he would in a heartbeat.

They were watching reruns of Friends on TV that afternoon. Still not speaking. They didn't even laugh when Joey said, "And I want to gooo!" During the Thanksgiving episode. They just sat there in complete silence. Harry had his eyes on his phone and Louis suddenly got an idea. He needed to make this up to Harry. He needed to fix this and bring Harry back to his old self. Louis had no idea how to go about that, but he knew someone who would. He dug out his own phone from his back pocket and texted Zayn.

_Zayn. Need Niall's number._

**Ask H.**

_C'mon. I know you have it._

**Okay. It's (XXX-XXX-XXXX). What's up?**

_Just royally fucked things up. I need Niall's help though._

**Anything Li and I can do?**

_Fraid not. Unless you can rewind time back before I completely destroyed H._

**So you finally did it then - had sex with him?**

Louis rolled his eyes.  _Not destroyed like that. Destroyed emotionally._

**What did you do?**

_I'll fix it._

**What did you do!!!???**

Louis didn't reply. Instead, he copied Niall's number and sent him a text. His stomach twisted into knots as he typed it out. He already made Harry hate him (probably) and didn't want Niall to hate him as well. Though it'd be well-deserved.

_Niall. It's Tommo. So I royally fucked up. I said some shit to Haz and now I think he hates me. What can I do to apologize?_

**_Tommo. H. texted me earlier this morning. I'm not your biggest fan ATM. Wtf is wrong with you??!?!_ **

_Okay. So I like Harry. Like really like Harry. And I have since Vegas. But I didn't think he felt the same. I just didn't want to let myself get hurt. So I hurt Harry before he had a chance to hurt me. I need to make this right._

**_You're a fucking piece of shit._ **

_I know._

**_You really fucked up._ **

_I know._

**_I should just stop texting you back right now._ **

_I know. But you're his best friend. He adores you. I just need to know what I can say or do to fix this. Please, Nialler. I need to fix this._

**_Why do you even care? Do you know what a wreck he was when he texted me this morning? You're a fucking asshole._ **

Louis wet his lips. C'mon, Niall. Please help me out here.  He typed back:  _I just need to make this right. Harry's hurt. I need to not make him be hurt._

**_Then you should have thought of that before you broke his heart. You big dumb idiot! He's crazy about you too. Has been since Vegas. This was never just about sucking it up and getting the money for him. He just wanted to do that because he thought that's what you wanted. You're both fucking stupid though. Can't even communicate with each other. This isn't Middle School._ **

_Wait...Harry likes me too?_

**_Probably not any more after this morning._ **

_Niall!_

**_Fine, fine. Yeah. He kept trying to deny it. But I'm not stupid. He had a fucking hickey. And he always was blushing when he'd talk about you. I'm not going to fix this for you. You are. You're going to make it right and make Harry be okay. If you're so crazy about him, you need to find out how to do that on your own and not take short cuts by trying to get me to help you. If Harry forgives you, I'll work on trying to forgive you. But you've made a royal mess of things,Tommo._ **

_Alright. I'll do what I can to fix this. I have to fix this. Hey, Nialler. I know you hate me right now. But PLEASE don't tell H what I said about liking him._

**_Fine._ **

**_And FYI, I don't hate you. Good luck. Make this right!!!_ **

Louis exited the conversation and put his phone on the arm rest. Niall was wiser than Louis'd given him credit for.  He'd been right. Louis needed to fix this on his own rather than trying to take short cuts from Niall. He needed to make things right between him and Harry again.  Maybe he'd destroyed any chance he had with him, but at least he could try to win his way back to being friends with him. Too bad apologizes weren't his strong suit. Louis never really apologized before. To anyone. And he had no idea how to even go about doing so. Didn't help matters he was terrified of making things worse.

"Harry..." Louis finally said. His voiced sounded weird against the silence that they'd shared for the past few hours.

Harry didn't even take his eyes off the TV.  Louis took a deep breath. He hated how much easier it was to hurt Harry than to ask for his forgiveness.  Louis wet his lips and said, "Please listen to me, Haz..."

"My name is Harry. Not Haz, and not Hazza.  Harry."

"Okay," Louis supposed he deserved that, "Harry. What I said this morning...I didn't mean it."

"Sure you did," Harry still didn't take his eyes from the TV, "and it is true.  We were being dumb.  This is just an arrangement we have to suck up and get through. And then we can be on our way."

Louis hated how cold Harry's voice was. It didn't even sound like him.  The cogs turned in Louis' mind as he tried to think of what to say next - "No.  No, that's not true.  Harry, it's not.  And you know it's not.  We aren't just strangers."  I want to kiss you.  I want to throw you up against a wall and kiss your brains out.  That's not what strangers do.  Louis took another deep breath and settled for saying, "We're friends.  You know we are."  Louis wanted to be so much more than just friends. But he'd rather be friends than whatever this was.  This was hell.

"Friends," Harry scoffed and Louis hated how the word sounded on Harry's tongue, "You made it clear I was nothing to you this morning."

"I-I don't even have an excuse for that," Louis ran his free hand through his hair.  Not one that I can really say out-loud anyway.  "I thought maybe it'd make things easier if we were more...unattached from each other.  And I was just trying to be hurtful."

"Well, you succeeded.  Good job.  If I had a fucking gold star sticker, I'd fucking put it on your forehead."

Louis closed his eyes, "I hate this. I hate that I hurt you and I hate that we're barely speaking. Please, Harry. Can we just forget that I said anything this morning? Just pretend we woke up and had breakfast and everything's fine?"

"No."

"Harry..."

"You know, Louis. You were absolutely right. We just need to get through this weekend and then these next few months. I'm sorry we were both drunk idiots in Vegas. But you're just as guilty as me for us being in this mess."

"I know that."

Harry sighed and a curl fell into his eyes. It took all Louis' strength not to push it away. 

"Look," Louis inhaled, "It was better when we were friends."

"Was that what we were?"

Louis' eyes locked onto the hickey on Harry's neck. It was fading significantly by now.  "Yes.  Friends.  This whole situation would be easier if we went back to being friends."

"Okay."

Louis thought his ears were playing tricks on him. "What?"

"Okay," Harry shrugged, still staring at the TV. "If it'll make getting through this weekend and the next few months, fine.  We'll be friends."

Louis was hearing him, but the tension was still there and nothing about any of this felt like they were friends.  Everything was cold and Louis just wanted to take everything back. 

"So...friends?" Louis asked, trying to be sure that they were on the same page.

"Sure." Harry's voice as ice.

"Okay," Louis nodded. He decided to try for humor now, "You'll forgive me," he nudged Harry slightly and Harry bristled at the touch, "I'll make you forgive me." Harry didn't respond so Louis continued, "I am sorry. I should never have said those hurtful things. They were all lies. I was just...trying to protect myself.  And I ended up fucking everything up and hurting you in the process and that wasn't fair to you. Just know that I'm sorry. There's not much more I can say besides that."

Harry's eyes flicked from the TV to Louis' for the first time all morning and Louis sighed a sigh of relief. At least it was something. "Please, Harry. Just tell me...tell me if we're going to be okay? Maybe not right now, but soon in the future?"

* * *

Harry bit his bottom lip.  The hell had Louis meant by "I was just trying to protect myself?" Whatever he meant, Harry knew something more was definitely going on besides what Louis was letting on. He also knew that Louis Tomlinson had looked like absolute hell since having said those things that morning. Even if he hadn't apologized until just now, Harry'd seen it written all over his face all morning. Something was going on with him. And Harry had two options here. One, he could continue being angry and sore for what Louis had said. Or two, he could chalk it up to Louis' suffering through stuff he wasn't ready to let Harry in on just yet. And he could forgive him. And they could move on and things could go back to being...whatever they were before.

Harry took a deep breath. This was a marriage. Sure it'd been a drunken mistake. But it was still a marriage and Harry was still a spouse. And sometimes spouses had to just give in and put a fight behind them for the sake of just it being over and done with. He wasn't going to forgive Louis for Louis' sake. He was going to forgive Louis for his own sake. It'd be easier and better for things to go back to whatever they'd been before.  

Harry played with a thread on the couch, still biting his bottom lip.  Louis was waiting on baited breath and Harry was amusing himself by not giving in right away.  Let Louis stew a little. Besides, the look on his face priceless. You could fake apologies. But a look like that?  That'd be pretty impossible to fake.  Harry took a deep breath. Okay then. 

He scrunched up his face slightly, still not looking at Louis - still engrossed with the thread on the couch, "You snore."

"Excuse me?" Louis choked and sputtered on his own spit.

A small smile tugged at Harry's lips, and the damn dimple was clearly giving him away but he didn't care at this point. He just needed to bring the mood back to what it'd been before this morning.  "Like a fucking freight train."  The small smile playing on his lips grew into a full-blown grin.  And he could see Louis' whole body relax.

Louis' lips teased into a smirk, "Is that so?"

"Mmhmm," Harry nodded, flicking his eyes to Louis, "You're so loud and obnoxious all the time. Even in your damn sleep."

Louis bit his bottom lip, the fond in his eyes and the grin on his face totally visible, "Well, you know, I do live to annoy you.  Can't slack off from my duties.  Even in my sleep."

"God," Harry rolled his eyes,"You're quite impossible."

"Thank you."

Harry shyly looked to his hands in his lap before saying his typical response, "Not a compliment." 

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

“I brought treats!” Niall held up a white paper sack in his hand, “Stopped by the bakery on the way home from work and thought I’d bring you something." He sat the bag on the kitchen counter and Harry and Louis scurried up from the sofa to see what Niall had brought. “Is he allowed to have treats,” Niall asked, eyes narrowing on Louis. Louis pouted, looking offended.

“Yes,” Harry laughed, “He’s allowed to have treats. All’s been forgiven for the most part.” Harry peeked into the sack and saw several double chocolate chip cookies. His mouth watered. He’d called in sick to the bakery - for the first time in almost a year - on account of being shackled to Louis. And he’d missed it all day long. Louis dug a cookie from the sack, “Thanks, Nialler.”

“No problem. I have to head off, but I just wanted to drop these off. You two are behaving right? You seemed to not have killed each other thus far.”

“Surprisingly,” Harry smirked to Louis, “And if _someone_ promises not to be an utter asshat like he was this morning,no one will.” Louis made a face and dug another cookie from the bag as Harry slapped his hand, “Stop! You’re going to spoil your dinner and we’re actually going to order delivery. No more PB &J.”

“Did you just slap his hand away and tell him he’d spoil his dinner?” Niall raised a bemused eyebrow, “God, you two really _are_ married!”

Louis smiled sweetly, pressing his lips to Harry’s cheeks, “Hubby!” He said exaggeratedly.

“You two make me sick. I’m leaving,” Niall shook his head, smiling at them before he left.

“Alright, _hubby,_ ” Harry rolled his eyes at the nickname, but had to admit it felt nice to be called that, even if it was just jokingly “We can’t exactly do much in our current predicament. Do you want to just go back to the couch and have a movie marathon type of evening?”

“Sounds great! But you’re not allowed to pick the movies! You’re still banned from all movie-watching decisions until further notice.”

“We should watch Joseph and the…”

“See?” Louis raised an eyebrow, “This is why you’ve been banned.”

They crouched down at the TV stand and Louis opened up a drawer filled with DVDs he’d collected. As he sorted through the DVDs, Harry couldn’t help but think how natural this felt. Take away the handcuffs, and it was like they really were a married couple about to settle in for a movie night. He bit at his thumbnail as Louis continued searching for the perfect movie. It really did just feel natural. Just like his attraction to Louis just felt natural. No matter what Harry told himself, he couldn’t help but find himself drawn to Louis Tomlinson.

“See,” Louis announced, holding up a DVD, “ _This_ is a great movie. And no one has to cry to have enjoyed it.”

Harry quirked an eyebrow at the copy of Fight Club in Louis’ hands, “Never seen it.”

“You’re fucking kidding, right?” Louis looked almost offended, “Okay. That has to change. We’re going to watch it. And then we’re going to watch it again. You have to watch it twice. You just have to.”

Louis was practically glowing and of course, Harry couldn’t argue. Louis popped in the DVD, and he and Harry shoved themselves up off the floor and got situated on the couch. It wasn’t the most comfortable being handcuffed. And as Louis started up the movie, Harry twisted his wrist gently, just trying to get some circulation. Louis noticed. _Of cours_ e Louis noticed.

“Hurts, don’t it?” He raised a brow and Harry nodded, “Alright, love. Come here,” Louis scootched over slightly.

Harry sucked in his lips and looked at Louis slightly confused. Surely Louis didn’t mean Harry come cuddle up next to him. It’d make their current predicament a lot more comfortable. But surely…

“ _Come here,_ ” Louis repeated, this time a little more firmly. He paused the movie, “Look, we’re both uncomfortable. Just get over here. I won’t bite. Unless you ask nicely.”

Harry’s cheeks flushed. _Of course_ Louis would say something like that. But his wrist was hurting. So Harry scootched over and leaned into the crook of Louis’ arm. They’d been close due to the handcuffs. But this was the first time Harry had been so close that he was touching Louis. And not just that, but cuddled against him in his arm. He felt like a statue that would crack at any moment.

“Relax,” Louis said, as if sensing Harry’s tension. He reached over with his free hand to smooth the back of Harry’s hair, “We’re being a proper married couple now, aren’t we.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Start the movie.”

* * *

Louis had seen Fight Club so many times he lost count. But that was to be expected when your all-time favorite movie had to be watched twice in a row in order for you to grasp the full effect. So he didn’t mind too much that Harry was taking all his attention off the movie. He already knew what was happening on screen anyway.

Harry was leaning into him and their hands were resting together, practically touching, on the cushion beneath them. Louis bit his lower lip, staring at Harry’s massive hand next to his (he was not going to use the word ‘tiny,’ he just wasn’t…) hand. Louis took a breath and swept his thumb along the the space between Harry’s thumb and pointer finger. The only indication Harry gave that he’d noticed was the slight biting of his bottom lip. Louis wet his lips and repeated the action, watching Harry closely to see what he’d do. He still didn’t take his eyes off the movie. Louis bit his bottom lip and rolled his eyes slightly. Okay. It was a damn good movie. Of course Louis knew that. But still. He wanted Harry to show him a little attention. He tried again. This time using his thumbnail. Harry’s hand twitched slightly, mostly taken by surprise than anything. And Louis smiled. Success!

“Lou, are you even watching the movie?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Louis cleared his throat, trying to gain some composure, “You’re just distracting.”

“ _I’m_ distracting?”

“Very.”

“Lou.”

Fine. Louis nestled back against the couch cushions. He was going to behave himself. Besides, Harry needed to pay attention to the movie. You can’t just half-heartedly watch Fight Club. It required undivided attention. But Harry Styles was a vaccuum and he sucked up all of Louis’ attention. He still felt bad for being a complete arse that morning. He didn’t even care anymore if he did get his heart broken. It’d be so worth it to have his heart broken by Harry Styles.

“I’m going to to try to find that bathrobe online,” Harry commented randomly, “And buy it for you.”

“What?” Louis laughed, taken by surprise, “Why?”

“Because just look at him,” Harry nodded to Brad Pitt, “Smoking a cigarette. Wearing aviators. And that fucking bathrobe. I’m going to find that bathrobe. And I’m going to buy it for you. And you’re going to wear it.”

“And what makes you think I’d wear it?” Louis asked, a smile playing on his lips.

“Because I’d have bought it for you,” Harry replied simply. Well shit. The boy already knew he had Louis wrapped around his little finger.

“Watch the movie, Hazza. Or am I not allowed to call you that anymore?” Louis asked, thinking back to that morning.

“No,” Harry replied and Louis’ face fell. Then a teasingly glint came over his eyes and Harry added, “I demand to only be referred to as Captain Hot Ass from now on.”

“Oh my God!” Louis rolled his eyes, but a huge smile was on his face. Why are you like this? Why are you just absolutely perfect that it drives me crazy? Louis shook his head, still smiling, “Watch the movie.”

“Say it.”

“No! You’re interrupting the movie.”

“Say it.” God was Louis whipped.

“Fine. Captain Hot Ass.”

“Yay,” Harry nestled back next to Louis.

“Captain Annoying as Shit, more like it.”

Harry just smiled.


	15. Just A Little Game

“Wait...what the hell? What the fucking hell, Lewis!”

Louis leaned back against the couch, covering a laugh with his free hand. Everyone’s reaction to the first time watching Fight Club was an absolute gift. And Louis was reveling in Harry’s reaction. It was even better than he’d pictured. Harry’s eyes were wide, his mouth was open, and he kept glaring from Louis to the TV, then back to Louis.

“So, shall we watch it again then?” Louis asked.

Harry nodded as though his life depended on it and Louis laughed again, “Hmmm...I don’t know,” Louis tapped his chin, “I think I’m more in the mood to watch Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor…”

He didn’t even get to finish. Harry had pretty much just tackled him and now he was pinned against the arm of couch with Harry Styles on top of him. Louis quirked an eyebrow and tried to keep his mind from adventuring off to dirty places.

“Don’t you dare!” Harry glared at him, “We’re watching it again!”

“Okay, okay,” Louis couldn’t help but laugh at how eager Harry was. His front teeth rested on his bottom lip ever so slightly and Harry’s brow furrowed just a touch. He could feel his heart beating against his chest, could hear the pulse echoing in his ears. Okay. As if things hadn’t been bad enough just being _next_ to each other…

“You have to get off though if you want me to reach the remote,” Louis said half-heartedly.

“Just a moment. I’m enjoying the view from here.”

What a little shit. Louis ground his jaw. This was unacceptable. Louis was supposed to be the smooth one. The flirt. The one who could make you blush at the drop of a hat. It wasn’t supposed to be the other way around.

“God, you’re quite impossible, aren’t you?” Louis asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“You know,” Harry’s eyebrow lifted in a way Louis wasn’t quite sure he liked, “I had to go days with Niall riding my ass about hickeys on account of you.”

Shit. Harry continued, smiling, “I wonder what Liam and Zayn would say if they saw you with a hickey, hmm? Seems like proper retribution.” Louis’ jaw gritted again. Okay. This most certainly was _not_ how he pictured things going.

“You wouldn’t,” Louis eyes went wide.

Harry just smirked and leaned down, sucking a bruise right onto Louis’ pulse point. He went dizzy. And when Harry finally broke away, he was smirking - the little shit was so pleased with himself. Louis’ tried to fix his now-dialated eyes into a scowl.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who can moan, _Lewis._ ”

Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck!_

“Okkie dokkie,” Harry pushed himself up off Louis, “Press play.”

Louis grabbed the remote with a shaky hand.

* * *

And that’s how it started. It became a game. See who could pin the other on either the bed, the floor, against a wall or a door, the counters, etc. and bruise each other’s necks. It was just a game. A stupid little contest. A challenge. Nothing more than a game. It wasn’t like it meant anything or went any further than that. The purpose was so that their friends would have something to tease the other about.

And their game lasted all day Sunday. It was Sunday evening when the boys were coming over to the flat for a game night of Monopoly. Louis and Harry stared at their reflections in the bathroom mirror. Their necks dotted with purple and red marks. Harry bit his bottom lip until it turned plump and red. Louis ran a finger along one of the more prominent marks on his own neck. It still fucking hurt. Harry and his damn _teeth!_

“Well,” Louis deadpanned, “Zayn, Liam, and Niall are going to have a field day.”

“You started it,” Harry tilted his head to the side, examining one of his marks.

“I did not! You did. Last night.”

“You started it with the first one last week,” Harry explained, running fingertips along his flesh, “I just wanted to pay you back for the favor of Niall ribbing me constantly about it.”

“Well looks like we’re both in for it now,” Louis winced.

He knew the guys were going to be relentless about this. They probably hadn’t thought this through very well. In fact, Louis knew they hadn’t. Now the guys were going to suspect things. Not that there were things to suspect. It had just been a game. That’s all.

“What’s your tally?” Harry asked.

"Thirteen, you little shit," Louis replied with a clipped voice.  How he ever let Harry Styles give him thirteen hickeys was beyond him!

"I have fourteen."

"Good," Louis cleared his throat and took a step back from the mirror, "You deserve more for what a pain you are to me."

A small smirk played at Harry's lips, "You love it."

Thank God the doorbell rang right at that exact moment.  Louis sighed with relief as he and Harry stepped out of the bathroom to answer it.  They'd debated wearing turtlenecks but figured that'd be obvious too.  As much as it pained them to admit, their friends weren't complete idiots.  They'd catch on to that right away.  So they settled for V-necks.  "Might as well show off," was what Harry had said, causing Louis to have gripped on to the side of the dresser.  With a strained voice, he'd tried to sound confident in his reply, "Yeah, sure."  Now their friends were here, and in just a few seconds, they'd see the absolute damage he and Harry had done to each other.  

Harry opened the door.  Niall, Liam, and Zayn were standing in the hallway.  Liam had beer in his hands again and when they saw Harry and Louis' their eyes widened to saucers.  Louis felt a little bit of pride rise up in his belly. Yeah that's right. Look at what I did to my boy.  He almost totally forgot about his own marks.

"Christ!" Liam took a step back.  Harry bit at his bottom lip.

"For fuck's sake," Zayn pushed past the two of them into the apartment, "Leave you alone for a few days and you practically wreck each other."

"Not wrecked," Louis opened the door wider, "Trust me, you'll know when I wreck Harry."

Harry's eyes widened.   _When._  But he didn't say anything.  Liam and Niall followed Zayn in and shook their heads.  It looked bad.  Harry and Louis both knew how bad it looked.  But god, it had been fun.

"You two are an absolute fucking mess," Liam rolled his eyes, but he said it absolutely lovingly, "I swear.  This is _embarrassing._ " 

"He has more," Louis shrugged a shoulder to Harry proudly.  

"Okay!" Zayn clapped his hands together, "Monopoly!  Think you two can keep your mitts off each other long enough for that?"

"We can try, but no promises," Louis nudged his hip into Harry's.

They set the board game up on the coffee table in the living room and sat around it in a circle.  Harry and Louis still attached with the handcuffs, sat next to each other.  Liam jumped at the chance to be the "banker" which Louis was thankful for.  Let the Daddy of the group handle the money.  As Liam was passing out everyone's designated "starting amounts" Louis leaned into Harry and whispered into his ear - 

"I'll make it fifteen."

Harry couldn't even hide his shiver at Louis' threat - or promise - in his ear. Niall took notice and his eyes locked onto Harry.  He slowly shook his head.  Harry bit his bottom lip, smiling.  He tried to remind himself that this was just a game.  Just like Monopoly was just a game. It didn't matter in terms of real life. It was nothing more than a silly little game. It didn't mean that there was anything between he and Louis.  But Louis' hadn't said anything since yesterday morning about just trying to get through the next few months.  And Harry had almost forgotten that this whole arrangement would end in three month's time.

The money was divided up and they took turns rolling the dice to see who'd go first and in what order.  Louis sassed Liam about if they were playing with Free Parking or not. And Niall was staring intently at Harry's neck as if he couldn't believe it.

Their game was fun. Everyone was laughing and having fun - except for the few more spats between Louis and Liam. And Louis ended up being quite proud of himself for having a whole five spaces in a row filled with hotels. And by the end of the game, Louis had most of the Monopoly Cash in his pile.  

"I hate playing with you," Liam rolled his eyes, "You don't even know how to play. You just get off lucky and end up bankrupting everyone."

"Sounds like that means I know how to play," Louis raised a brow. 

"Tomorrow you get your handcuffs off, right?" Niall interrupted, still looking from Louis to Harry as if he were in shock.

"Yup," Harry lifted their wrists, "Thank God! First thing in the morning."

"Maybe Doctor Samuels' will let me keep these," Louis smirked, rattling the metal, "Much better than the fuzzy ones I have."

"Jesus Christ," Harry and Liam both said, in very different tones - then glanced at each other with utter embarrassment in their eyes.  Louis snickered. 

"And with that, we're going to take off for the night," Zayn hopped up off the floor, "Try - _try_ \- to stay out of trouble."

"No promises, darling," Louis winked at him.

After their friends left, Harry and Louis put away the board game. Well, their friends hadn't bugged them as much about the hickeys as they'd thought. And Harry wondered if maybe they'd made such a big deal of it so that they could keep getting away with giving each other hickeys under the guise of a game. But he wasn't exactly complaining. 

"What time do you want to head to Doctor Samuel's tomorrow?" Louis asked, organizing the bills into their slots of the box.

"Well I don't have to be at the bakery until tomorrow afternoon. So any time in the morning is fine with me. God, it'll be nice to get these off. My wrist is killing me!"

They finished putting the game away in silence and got ready for bed. They'd developed a routine over the past few days. When they'd shower, the other would stand outside the curtain. When they used the toilet, the other would stand in the shower with headphones on. When it came time to dressing, they would try to turn away as best as possible and cover their eyes with their freehand. And they'd actually gotten sort of used to being shackled together.  

Louis turned down the covers of the bed and crawled in. Harry slipped in after him.  He stared up at the ceiling - a million thoughts running through his head. Each moment that passed, he seemed to fall deeper and deeper and harder and faster for Louis Tomlinson. He hadn't had a drop of alcohol since Vegas and yet he managed to feel utterly intoxicated. He was pretty sure if Louis asked him to run off to a wedding chapel again, he'd say yes. 

"Alarm is set for seven," Harry said, setting his phone back down on the end table.

"Okay," Louis nodded once, "No playing any annoying musicals, got it?  I need my beauty sleep."

"I'll try to refrain from playing musicals," Harry smirked, "though no amount of sleep can do anything for that face."

Louis bit his bottom lip, a grin playing at his lips, "You love my face and you know it."

"Nope," Harry was fighting a smile now, "It's honestly pretty horrendous."

"C'mere," Louis motioned with his hand.

"Why?" Harry's eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he scooted closer to Louis anyway.

"Promised you number fifteen, didn't I?" 


	16. Chapter 16

"So..." Doctor Samuel's leaned back a bit in her plush leather desk chair, "...you two have survived the weekend.  Both of you are still standing," Harry's mind immediately went into the gutter and he had to press his nails into his palm in order to remind himself where they were.  Doctor Samuels continued, "And I see you survived, but have a few minor bruises?" She raised an eyebrow and Harry felt his heart rate skip.  "Have you two been intimate since your wedding night?"

"We weren't even intimate on the wedding night," Louis told her, and Harry wondered if he'd just imagined Louis' thumb brushing against his, "This one passed out drunk and fell asleep. And I am a gentleman."

"Hardly a gentleman," Harry blushed.  And he couldn't help but notice Louis' cheeks turned a shade of pink as well.

"So these...love bites then," Doctor Samuels raised her brows, "Explain."

"They aren't _love bites,_ " Louis was quick to correct, "They were just a game. See who could mark each other up the most. Nothing really more than that."

"So you two have no had sexual relations."

"Jesus," Harry hissed. Must she have said it like that?  Louis snorted, clearly amused.

"No," he answered truthfully.

"Okay. Forgive me for being a little confused here. Love bites are something very sexual and intimate. And you two are covered in them. Yet you haven't had sexual relations?"

Harry rolled his eyes - Christ, could she stop saying that?

Again, Louis spoke up, "They're just marks. It was just a game," but he didn't sound all that convinced either.

Doctor Samuels shook her head, "Alright. Well, let me take those handcuffs off of you. I'm sure you'll be happy to have those off. And I still want to see you back here on Friday for our next session."

She opened up a drawer in her desk and took out a tiny key. Louis and Harry held up their wrist and she unlocked the metal bracelets. At the feeling of freedom, both of them clutched their hands to their chest. Harry waved his around slowly. It felt weird. Very weird to not be attached to Louis. Would this be what the divorce would feel like?

"Don't suppose I could keep those, eh?" Louis raised a brow. Harry choked. And Doctor Samuels just peeled her eyes upward to Louis. She didn't say a word. "I'll take that as a no."

* * *

 

The two headed outside to meet Liam. He'd driven them, but had dropped them off to run get some coffee from the place a few blocks away. He wasn't back yet.  Harry leaned against a lamp post and waited.  Louis came over and stood next to him, softly turning his wrist around as if surprised by the sudden freedom too.

"And I was just starting to get used to you being attached to me," he said thoughtfully. Harry smiled meekly. There was that same odd tension again between the two of them. And Harry had no idea what it even meant.

"Shame about Doctor Samuels not giving me those handcuffs. We could have put those to good use."

Dear God Almighty.

"Louis," Harry started, but then stopped himself, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Sometimes I just don't know about you."

"What do you mean?" Louis' brows furrowed slightly.

"Nothing," Harry shook his head, "Never mind." He certainly was not about to ask Louis if he'd been serious or not. He remembered back to Louis saying that if there was any doubt, to just assume he was kidding. Surely that's what he'd been doing. Just kidding around, trying to get a rise from Harry.

"Jesus," Louis said out of nowhere, "Your neck is fucking wrecked!"

"Jee, I wonder why that is," Harry rolled his eyes.

Louis tugged down the collar of Harry's t-shirt, revealing the marks on his collar bones, "Who did this to you and why are you not fucking his brains out yet?"

Harry lost it. Completely lost it. He choked on his own saliva. Surely he hadn't heard that correctly. Surely it was just his imagination running wild. But holy shit! And the way Louis was looking at him - head tilted slightly, brows raised expectantly...he had said it.  He'd really fucking said. Just out in the middle of the day like it was nothing?  And Harry was bracing himself against the light post trying to remind himself how to breathe.

"Excuse me?" He asked, when he had finally stopped hacking and when he'd finally remembered how lungs worked.

Liam pulled up next to the light post at that particular moment and Louis smirked.  He opened the passenger door and right before sliding in the front seat, he winked and said, "You heard me."

"Whoa," Liam titled the rear view mirror slightly, staring right at Harry as they continued down the street, "You okay back there, H? You look like you've just seen a ghost."

"I'm...fine," Harry cursed his voice for cracking. Liam just shot Louis a glance. Louis just shrugged. And Harry just died.

"Alrighty," Liam finally said apprehensively, "Anywhere you boys need me to take you - or just back to the flat?"

"Flat," Harry managed, "Flat now!"

"Okay then," Liam smiled slightly and Harry didn't even care.

For the rest of the ride, his mind was racing. He was a complete wreck. But he was so done with this whole dancing around it thing. Everyone knew that there was something going on between them. The tension had been so thick at times you could almost see it clouding around like a fog. And Harry was done. He was done with Louis teasing him and working him up just to drop it all with a smirk and a shrug. He was done with the way they'd been fucking destroying each other's necks the last twenty four hours all under the guise of some silly game. He was done with it all. And when they got home, he was going to show Louis fucking Tomlinson just how done he really was.

Liam pulled up next to the car port and told them goodbye. As soon as they were out of the car, Harry grabbed hold of Louis' forearm. "Inside, _now,_ " he said, his voice like gravel. He didn't even know where this side of him had come from. But apparently Louis had unearthed it.

Once inside the flat, Louis had barely gotten the door closed when Harry grabbed him by the fabric of his shirt. He could almost lift him off the ground. In fact, he pretty much was. Louis was standing on the very tips of his toes. His eyes were saucers and Harry couldn't help but metaphorically pat himself on the back for getting Louis Tomlinson to shut his trap for five seconds.

“You know what, Lewis,” Harry asked, his voice even deeper than its usual tone, “I am so tired of you thinking you can just tease me and work me up and then brush it off like it’s all a joke. I have been dealing with you for two weeks now and I’m done. I am so fucking done. Either you want us to fuck or not. Which one is it?”

Louis’ mouth fell agape ever so slightly and Harry smirked. He wondered how many people had ever rendered Louis speechless.

“What will it be?” Harry asked, tightening his grip slightly. He stepped even closer. His groin pressing against Louis’. And he swore he heard a hiss of breath escape from Louis’ breath - the first sound he’d actually made in a long time by Louis standards.

“I-I want you,” Louis replied.

That was all Harry needed. He grabbed Louis’ hand and together they hurried into the bedroom. It was Harry who shoved Louis onto the bed.  And Lou seemed genuinely taken back by everything. And Harry was too. He was never the aggressive one. Never the instigator. And with his ex...well, Harry wasn’t going to think about that. But Louis’d worked him up to the point where he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Haz…” Louis’ eyes widened even more.

“Oh Lewis,” Harry shook his head, “For the first time in your life, will you kindly shut up!”

Louis clamped his mouth shut, biting his bottom lip. He nodded eagerly, and Harry could see the sheer delight glistening in his eyes. He was more than happy to shut up and let Harry take control.

* * *

 

They were both breathing heavily, looking up at the ceiling.  Both Harry and Louis were still in shock that that’d actually happened. And Louis made a mental note to let Harry take control more. God. He couldn’t even remember anyone making him feel like this before. He thought of all the previous times he’d been with different guys. He was the only always doing all the work. Even when he took a more submissive role, it was never anything like this. Nothing even came close to this.

“Hey,” Harry rolled over, propping his head up on his arm.

“Hey,” Louis turned over to face him, propping up on his own arm. His eyes were bright and full and there was a lazy smile playing on his lips.

“You’re wrecked,” Harry chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from Louis’ eyes.

“Jee, really?  Had no idea.”

Harry bit his bottom lip, smiling. They were both all smiles.  And giggles.  Like they couldn’t believe they’d just done that. Honestly, they seemed more like teenagers than grown men as they brushed the hair from each other’s faces and giggled.

“This what I get for being a tease?” Louis smirked.

“Learned your lesson?” Harry asked.

“I never was a very good student,” Louis grinned, “If anything, I’ll just be even worse now that I know what the repercussions will be.”

“Ha!” Harry let out a laugh and leaned in, kissing Lou, “You’re such a pain.”

“But you love it.”

“I shall admit no such thing.” He pulled Louis into him so that they were holding each other now. It was hot and they were both sweating profusely but Harry just needed to hold Louis close. And Louis just needed to be held close.

“Hey love?” Louis asked, nestling closer into Harry.

“What, baby?”

“Just thinking...I’m kind of starting to fall for my husband.”

Harry’s smile was sunshine, “I think I’m starting to fall for my husband as well.”


	17. Chapter 17

"So...you two are like...an item now?"

"Niall, good lord. Don't use phrases like 'item,'" Harry sighed, stirring a bowl of brownie batter, "And yeah...we are."

"Well you've pretty much been an..." Niall stopped himself, "...since Vegas. I mean you two have had this thing going on back and forth for a long time now and to be honest, Liam and Zayn and I were this close to placing bets on when you two would finally do the do."

"Again, Niall. Don't use phrases like 'do the do.' Lord. Okay. Yeah, Louis and I are together. And yeah there's been something between us for awhile now."

Niall giggled and Harry sighed and flung a fingerful of brownie batter at him.

"So what are you going to do at the end of three months then?" Niall asked, "Are you two going to go your separate ways, or stay married." 

"Jesus," Harry hadn't really considered it, "Well, surely those aren't the only options. I mean, we could always get divorced and then start dating like a normal couple."

"But you two are already like in that phase now."

"Only we're married."

Harry hadn't even considered what would happen at the end of three months. Maybe Louis was only with him to make the next few months easier. Surely not though. Though Harry wouldn't exactly hold it against him if it were true. After all, it was making things easier with them being an actual couple. And there were times Harry actually caught himself feeling like a husband - something that made his heart swell slightly with pride.

And the fact that Louis had taken to fondly calling him "hubby" and "sweet husband" wasn't exactly helping things. 

"Sometimes I really feel like we're married," Harry sighed wistfully, "I mean, there's moments where if you close your eyes and pretend real hard, you can almost imagine us as being really married."

"You are really married."

"You know what I mean," Harry poured the batter into a baking pan, "I just...I'm enjoying it. I don't want it to end. And I sure as hell don't want to be divorced in my lifetime. If I can avoid it. I just don't know. But I'm sure not going to scare Louis off by talking of marriage just a few weeks into our marriage."

Niall laughed. Okay, so it was amusing. Harry still flung more brownie batter at him though.

\--

"Lou, what are we?" Harry asked later that night as they were getting ready for bed.

"What do you mean?" Louis asked, tugging a tight white t-shirt over his head, "Human beings. Or at least I am. Sometimes I swear you're part Klingon or something." 

"Ha, ha. Very funny."

"Okay," Louis came up behind Harry and wrapped his arms around his waist, "You're Harry and I'm Louis. What more do you need to know?"

Harry sighed. He wanted so desperately to know that this was real. But he didn't want to cause Louis to freak out. They had definitely rushed into their wedding. He didn't want to rush into marriage too. 

"Nothing," Harry turned around to face Louis and kissed him.

"Stop that," Louis pulled away, smiling good-naturally, "Tell me what's on your mind, babe."

"Mmm...how delightful you look."

"You're trying to distract me," Louis held him at arm's length - as hard a task that was for him. 

"Is it working?"

"Maybe. But I still want to know what's on your mind, Hazza. Talk to me."

"Fine," Harry stepped back and sat down on the edge of the mattress, "I just really like this. This thing I have with you."

"Ah, you mean our marriage?"

"Yeah, that."

Louis smiled, sitting down next to Harry and placing a hand on his knee, "Love, a few weeks ago I'd have said marrying you in Vegas was the biggest mistake of my life. Now? I'm not so certain. For starters, I've gotten to know you. And Niall. And our friends get along well. And you and I? Well, I think we seem to get along well too, huh?" Lou started kissing Harry's neck, making him squirm slightly.

"Now who's being distracting?" Harry pouted.

"Ha," Louis smirked as he sucked a bruise against Harry's pulse point.

"Lou..." Harry whined, "I'm trying to have a serious talk with you here."

"Right," Louis pulled away, crossing his arms sternly over his chest, "Serious talk. Taxes. Encyclopedias. Accounting. Files. Budgets."

"What are you doing?" Harry couldn't help but laugh. Louis couldn't go five seconds without delighting him.

"Having a very serious, adult conversation here Harold. Try not to interrupt. Global warming. Antiques. Dental insurance."

"Oh my god," Harry buried his face into Louis' shoulder and laughed, "Come here," Harry attempted to pull Louis further up the mattress with him.

"Harold, what did I just say about interrupting? War documentaries. Sugar free candy. The Wall Street Journal."

"Louis!" Harry yanked his arm, causing Louis to fall over back onto the pillows. 

"What do you want, Hazza?" Louis asked, his eyebrow raised slightly - teasingly.

"Kiss me."

"Well, if you're going to insist," Louis smirked, leaning down and sweetly kissing Harry on the lips, "And love? Let's just see what happens. No talk of divorces. No talk of staying married. Let's just...take things day by day. Okay?"

"Sounds good," Harry nodded, and it did. It really did.

"Politics. Religion. Quinoa. CNBC."

"Shut up," Harry pulled Louis closer to him, "And kiss me you fool."


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I needed to finish this. It was bothering me to leave it unfinished. Thank you all for reading!

Three Months Later

“I can’t believe you idiots are actually doing this,” Niall rolled his eyes, “You sure Louis just wasn’t looking for an excuse to have a party?”

“Maybe,” Louis came up behind Harry, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing his neck, “but Hazza said he always wanted to have a proper wedding shower. And well, after meeting with the judge this week and giving him the news, we figured today would be a good a day as any. Looks delicious, baby,” Louis commented as Harry chopped up fruit for the fruit salad.

Niall popped a grape into his mouth, “So, you went to the judge this week and told him the final verdict - that you two are going to stay together.”

“Mmhmm,” Louis kissed Harry again and Harry blushed, “We are going to stay married. No annulments. No divorces.”

“The drunk wedding was a mistake,” Harry admitted, turning to Louis, “but the marriage? That wasn’t a mistake. And we may have been drunk that night, but we knew we had something special between us. We can’t end our marriage. And this may be tough work, but we’re going to make it happen. We’re going to stay together. He’s my husband.”

“And he’s mine.”

“And you both are disgusting,” Niall smiled, “I’m happy for you though. Both of you. You’re cute.”

Harry smiled as he finished the salad. It was true though. Even the judge had said they were cute when they’d met with him the other day. They’d met with him alone in chambers and had told him that while it might not have been conventional, they were husband and husband. And even though the marriage came before the love, there was love now. And that they couldn’t imagine their lives without the other.

And now, they were finishing the last preparations for their wedding shower - which would take place in about thirty minutes. And Harry and Louis were both all butterflies and excitement at getting to celebrate their marriage with their family and friends.

Niall excused himself to go to the bathroom and Louis grabbed Harry, kissing him again.

“I love you so, so much,” he said, “Do you know that?”

“And I love you too, Lou,” Harry blushed, kissing his husband.

“We’re really married, huh?”

“We’ve been really married.”

“Yeah, but this...this actually feels like it. Like that it’s real. And next month we’re going on our honeymoon and I just can’t believe that you’re really mine and that this is really real.”

“Me either. I never would have imagined this was going to be my life. But I am so, so glad you got me so sloshed that night and put that tacky ring on my finger.”

“Gonna buy you a better ring soon,” Louis kissed Harry’s knuckles, “A proper wedding ring. We do have $500,000 to spend spoiling you now, don’t we?”

Harry pulled Louis into a hug, kissing him under the banner that Zayn had made: “Congratulations, Mr. and Mr. Tomlinson!”


End file.
